#namjoon slash

[4joonkookie2]

Live!

Pairing: Namjoon x Jungkook

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Jungkook interrupts Namjoon's livestream to take advantage of their free-use arrangement :)

Tags/Notes: smut, free-use, butt plugs, teasing, anal sex, oral sex, blowjobs, swallowing, slut, vlive, weverse, public sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, kissing, JK is irresistible, Top!NJ, Bottom!JK, established relationship, Joon is down BAD, JK's ass prevails, better to overuse names than be unclear.

UNCENSORED MOODBOARD

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After a long day of work, Namjoon sits down in his studio and starts a Vlive. It’s the last thing he’ll have to do today before he can go home. 

The stream gets going, comments invading and scrolling down the screen. Namjoon scans through as best he can as they zoom downward.   

He greets his fans and sorts through questions about his hair, his projects, and the other members. 

Your hair is getting so long!

Yoongi Marry me!

When is your album coming out???

Namjoon is startled by a knock at the door, not expecting anybody. Visits from other members are typically planned and Namjoon thought he was alone today. 

“Please, wait for me,” he says. In caution, he aims the camera at the ceiling. 

He opens the door to Jungkook, who stands in the doorway, effortlessly beautiful in his baggy shirt and sweatpants. 

“Hi,” he says. Just the sound of his voice has Namjoon's pulse racing. 

He pulls Jungkook inside, shutting the door behind them. He presses him to the door and greets him with a kiss on the lips.

Hunger takes over Namjoon. He presses his body against Jungkook’s, exploring his mouth with his tongue, and running hands down the length of his back and over his ass. Jungkook whimpers in his grasp.

He has to step back and gain his composure, almost forgetting where he is and what he’s doing. Every encounter with Jungkook is like falling into a deep hole that he can’t crawl out of. It’s intense and all-encompassing in the best way.

When he's alone, he can be normal. He can think. But the moment Jungkook comes around, it's like his brain turns to mush. It makes the nature of their free-use arrangement thrilling, but it also makes Namjoon susceptible to Jungkook’s whims at the worst moments. 

“I’m live right now,” Namjoon says in his most hushed voice, reminding himself too. 

“Oh?” Jungkook looks only half surprised. 

In more caution, Namjoon runs to the computer and mutes the microphone. 

“Maybe give me 20 minutes? I’ll finish early.” He gets his lips on Jungkook again. He holds his face in his hands, feeling himself drowning. 

“No,” Jungkook hums, shaking his head sweetly, voice going up at the end. He wraps his arms around Namjoon’s neck. 

Namjoon titters nervously. He understands their arrangement, but he’s literally live streaming.

“That’s the agreement, Hyung. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere,” Jungkook quips. “I’ll be quiet,” he says. “Unless you want to use the safe word.” 

Namjoon gulps and shakes his head. He couldn’t possibly resist Jungkook. 

“Will you join me?” Namjoon asks, in a last-ditch effort. “ARMY would love to see you.”

Jungkook slyly shakes his head. 

Namjoon has a sneaking suspicion that Jungkook has planned this. He makes his way back to his chair to sit, hesitant. He angles the screen away so as not to expose Jungkook.

Jungkook arranges himself on the couch, out of view and behind the camera. 

He removes his shirt, tossing it to the side. “Go on, Hyung. They’re waiting.”

Namjoon nods, taking a deep breath. Has to get back on or management will be breathing down his neck.

He says a silent prayer before pointing the camera to himself again. He reconnects the audio and continues. Comments have flooded the session. 

Where are you????

What happened????

Namjoooooooooooon!!

“Sorry, I had some technical difficulties,” he explains, easing the virtual crowd. “It was just a staff member.”

From the corner of his eye, Jungkook rubs hands over his bare chest and nipples, caressing down the washboard of his stomach. 

It's everything Namjoon can do to keep at least one eye on the screen. 

Jungkook’s cock grows in his sweats. He licks his fingers and keeps one hand tweaking his nipple, gasping a little. He rubs over his crotch and gets ahold of his cock, sheathed by fabric. He looks down at it, then at Namjoon. 

Jungkook’s face is a bit flushed now, lips parted as he rubs over himself. Namjoon's mouth waters .

Jungkook keeps his eyes locked on Namjoon. Removing his sweatpants, he reveals a lack of underwear. He drags his fingertips between his thighs, tickling himself before stroking at his hardened shaft and swiping pre at the tip. 

Namjoon squirms in his seat. Time isn’t moving fast enough. He has to be live for at least a half hour and there are still 15 minutes left.  

He does his best to focus, putting both eyes on the screen. He reads comments and answers questions as Jungkook lies stark naked on the couch. It’s their little secret. 

Dissatisfied with the attention he’s receiving, Jungkook stands and approaches Namjoon, still out of view of the camera. 

Namjoon looks up at him, trying to do two things at once. 

'Back up,’ Jungkook mouths. Namjoon scoots his rolling chair back, doing his best to appear casual. He panics when Jungkook gets to his knees just under the camera. 

“What are you doing?” Namjoon whispers, aiming the screen at the ceiling and muting the audio. 

“Relax,” Jungkook soothes. “Just a little longer,” he says, settling between Namjoon’s legs. 

Who’s with you???

What are you looking at?

Show us!

They’ve made use of this arrangement endless times, but it was always at least behind a closed door. How could they do it like this in front of fans? What if management catches wind of this? It’s terrifying and thrilling, all at once.  

But he can’t bring himself to stop Jungkook. He’s irresistible . 

Settled between his knees, Jungkook gently caresses Namjoon’s thighs at first. Resetting the equipment, Namjoon focuses his attention on the viewers again.  

Jungkook signals for him to lift his ass slightly so he can lower his sweatpants. Namjoon riffs, seemingly shifting from the waist up. 

He maintains composure and reads comments, thinking less about Jungkook and feeling comfortable just having him below.  

"Yes, the track list will come out soon."

"I worked on it for a long time, I hope you enjoy it."

Jungkook massages Namjoon’s cock and places little kisses through his briefs. He rubs his face and mouth against the clothed shaft. Jungkook’s warm breath and the friction of the fabric create a unique sensation. 

It’s soothing, in a way, and puts Namjoon in a more relaxed headspace. He muses with fans over his last trip to the art gallery and his Instagram photos.

What’s your favorite gallery?

Yoongi Marry me!

His stomach drops when Jungkook pulls his shaft from the slit in his shorts. He places gentle little kitten licks at the top, so soft they almost tickle. Namjoon’s face and body heat up, cock fully erect. He does his best to carry on. 

He tangles encouraging hands in Jungkook’s hair and nearly chokes when he feels his warm mouth wrap around him. Jungkook is merciless, even letting out a little moan as he takes him in. Namjoon clears his throat over the noise. 

What was that?

You look flushed, Joonie.

Who’s with you??

Are you feeling well?

Namjoon stops him, placing his hand on Jungkook’s. It’s a signal to slow him down and Jungkook does, creating a new rhythm. 

“I’m ok, just very tired. I’ll rest soon.”

Namjoon relaxes, answering easy comment questions while Jungkook softly sucks below. He pretends to look down at his phone so he can see Jungkook. He looks proud and beautiful, like his lips were meant to be wrapped around Namjoon's cock. 

Namjoon looks at the clock: 4 minutes to go. 

Jungkook eventually stops sucking. He just sits prettily with Namjoon’s cock in his mouth, occasionally shifting and swallowing pooled spit, keeping his cock warm. He patiently traces sweet circles on Namjoon's skin with his fingertips, resting his cheek on his thigh. 

Jungkook looks up, batting his eyelashes and smiling around Namjoon’s shaft.

“Well, I'll need to end this soon. I have more work to do,” Namjoon says, cutting the stream a few minutes short. 

He quickly blows kisses and waves to fans before ripping the audio cable from the computer. 

“Fuck, Jungkook, tell me you didn’t know I was live,” he whines, pushing his chair out. 

“Of course I did,” Jungkook smiles, wiping his mouth. He pulls Namjoon’s sweats around his ankles and reaches a hand up to get help off the ground. 

They share a sweet kiss before Namjoon tangles a hand in Jungkook's dark locks and yanks it back, causing him to yelp.

“You knew what you were doing by coming here,” he growls, shoving his tongue in Jungkook’s mouth to taste him. “Such a fucking slut.” 

Jungkook whines, nodding in his grasp. 

Namjoon laughs. This isn’t a thing. He said it in the heat of the moment but didn't expect Jungkook to agree . 

“Yeah? Are you a fucking slut?” The words encourage him. 

Jungkook unlatches Namjoon’s hand. “Your slut,” he whispers, taking a step back. He gets to his knees on the couch, facing away. He grabs the edge and bends over, arching his back as best he can to expose a plug, lubed and stuffed between his cheeks. 

Namjoon groans. “Fuck, Jungkook,” he says, groping at his cock. It’s leaking and angry red at the tip now. 

“Wanted to be ready for you, Hyung,” Jungkook coos, playing with the base and gasping as he pushes it in and out of himself. “Do you like it?” 

Namjoon walks over to him, hypnotized by the sight. Jungkook’s pretty pink hole clenches around a slippery plug and the idea that it’s been inside him this whole time sets a fire off in Namjoon. 

He nods, leaning down to kiss and lick around the plug. He turns it and watches Jungkook squirm. “I like it.”

He yanks the plug out and lets it thump to the ground, watching Jungkook’s hole wink and clench around nothing. 

“My slut,” He hums before replacing the plug with four fingers, stretching him even further. Jungkook yelps, trying to adjust. Namjoon gently tilts Jungkook’s head back from behind for a languid kiss. 

 “Get on your back,” he instructs, removing his own shirt. 

Jungkook lies on his back, body splayed across the cushions. He brings his knees up higher, wrapping hands around the outside of his thighs to pry himself open. Namjoon stands and watches him for a moment, stroking himself at the sight. He’s perfect, open, and waiting for him. 

Jungkook whines at Namjoon’s hesitation. 

“Oh, you’re a desperate little slut, aren’t you?” Namjoon taunts, and Jungkook nods feverishly again. 

Namjoon teases, leaning down to drag teeth over Jungkook's neck. He grinds their cocks together, desperate for any friction. He prods the tip at the opening and barely slips inside. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook whines. 

“Say please ,” Namjoon instructs. 

Jungkook drags Namjoon’s bottom lip between his teeth. He looks right into his eyes, bucking his hips up. 

“ Please , fuck me,” he begs. 

Namjoon pulls Jungkook's bottom closer to him, lines up, and plows his thick cock inside. Jungkook groans when he slams into the hilt.

He grips Jungkook’s delicate waist, pushing himself in until his balls knock against Jungkook’s flesh. He grinds his hips, stretching him thoroughly. Draping Jungkook’s ankles over his shoulders, he pounds, gaining speed. 

Jungkook has his arms up and over his head, palms wrapped around the arm of the couch as Namjoon fucks him into it. The couch bangs against the wall and shifts on the ground as his hips piston into Jungkook.

He pounds into the deepest part of him, making up for the nearly thirty minutes Jungkook taunted and teased him. He was egged on by how perfect he looked beneath the chair and the way his doe eyes looked up at him with a mouth full of his cock. 

“Joonie, ah, Hyung!” Cum oozes from Jungkook’s aching cock and Namjoon drills into that spot, willing more to spill. 

The sound of his name riles him further. He folds Jungkook in half, pressing his thighs flush with his tummy. He thrusts and buries himself as deep as he can go. 

“Where do you want me to come?” Namjoon asks, feeling himself get close. 

“Inside, please, Joonie, fill me up,” he pants. “Need your cum.”

Namjoon loops his arms around Jungkook’s thighs, pulling him even closer to use his body. 

He grunts and groans as a powerful orgasm bursts from him. He fills Jungkook to the brim as fingernails dig into his back. 

He slowly pulls out, admiring Jungkook’s messy hole, blown out and sensitive. Namjoon leans down to kiss him again and gets hold of his cock. He uses his hands and mouth to finish Jungkook.

Namjoon swallows him down, loving the taste of him on his tongue.

Focusing on the tip, he flicks his tongue over the top and strokes the shaft. Jungkook’s whines get higher and louder, hips bucking up. Namjoon increases his pace and holds his tongue out. Beautiful sounds emerge from Jungkook as he shoots into Namjoon’s open mouth, swallowing every drop. 

Namjoon collapses on Jungkook’s chest, and they lay, used, and spent. Namjoon makes a trail of kisses down the line of Jungkook’s neck. They kiss and cuddle, happy in their post-coital bliss. 

Namjoon’s hand rustles at the ground and he replaces the plug, reveling in the idea of his come lingering inside Jungkook.

Jungkook glances just past Namjoon and lets out a slight gasp. “Hyung,” he whispers.

Namjoon turns to where Jungkook is looking and sees the reflection of themselves in the camera. The stream is still live.  

Viewers have skyrocketed and comments move twice as fast down the screen. 

can’t hear you, but we can see you!

Jungkook’s so good!

Yoongi, marry me

what that mouth do, Joonie?????

Wow! thighs…

You guys are all red! So Cute!

[chimcess]

⚔︎ Chapter 0: The Prologue Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Other Tags: Assassin!Taehyung, Assassin!Reader, Assassin!Jimin, Dad!Jimin, Assassin!Yoongi, Gang Leader!Yoongi, Assassin!Namjoon, Swordmaster!Hoseok, Chef!Hoseok, Pimp!Seokjin Genre: Assassins! AU, Exes!AU, Lovers to Enemies, Action, Comedy, Suspense, Martial Arts, Drama, Thriller, Romance (if you squint), Heavy Angst, Violence, 18+ only Word Count: 3.3k+ Summary: A former assassin awakens from a four-year coma after her ex-lover Taehyung tries to kill her on her wedding day. Driven by revenge for the loss of her unborn child and stolen life, she creates a hit list and embarks on a ruthless mission to take down everyone responsible. Warnings: toxic relationship, death, blood, pregnant woman being badly injured, guns, gunshot, this is just the prologue so there's not much here, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Chapters will start officially dropping July 5th. Thanks for reading!

masterlist || next

The chapel should’ve been silent.

It was an old place in a small washed up town just out of El Paso, Texas. Wooden and made for no more than fifty people at a time. Places like this were built for quiet. Women fanning themselves, whispered prayers, the stillness when they bowed their heads. A paster who spoke softly and with a slight lisp. But this one wasn’t still.

Light filtered through the fractured stained glass in strange, broken beams. The familiar colors—once soft blues and radiant golds—were twisted now, bleeding together in sickly smears. That light didn’t warm the room. It landed in slashes, casting jaundiced yellows and bruised purples across the pews.

Everything in that chapel was not as it should have been.

The pews were gashed and gouged, varnish long gone in patches where children’s fingernails had worn it away. Places where fingers once folded in reverence were now sticky with rot or worn bare by time. Whatever prayers had been whispered here—if they were ever answered—no one would know now.

When the police would come just ten minutes later, the church would be demolished a few short weeks later. The folks of Canutillo did not want to be reminded of the Two Pines Masacre nor the family that was butchered within it.

The air hung thick, not just with heat but with something worse. It clung to the skin, damp and cloying, as if the chapel itself was sweating. It stank of iron, fresh and metallic, and beneath it, something sweeter curled. Rotten sweet. Like fruit left too long in the sun, or perfume curdled by time. A scent that turned your stomach.

At the front of the chapel, just below the altar, the bride lay crumpled.

A tangle of limbs and torn fabric, folded in on herself like she’d been cast down from a height and left to break where she fell. One leg bent the wrong way beneath her. The other twitched, small and aimless. Her arms were pulled tight to her chest, fists curled as if she’d tried to hold something that was already gone.

What was left of her dress was soaked in her blood, shredded and barely able to cover her. It clung to her in blood-slick folds. The bodice had been split straight down the center

The blood came slow, thick. It soaked into the stone beneath her in sluggish waves. And still, somehow, she breathed. Just barely. Wet, shallow gasps that scraped through her throat like they hurt to take. Her skin glistened with sweat, her color all wrong—an almost bruised color and waxy.

Her face was swollen, broken in places. One eye sealed shut beneath a crust of blood. Her jaw looked fractured. Her lips cracked. The other eye fluttered—just enough to show she was still in there. Somewhere.

But it wasn’t hope in that eye. Hope had left long before the blood spilled.

What was left was something raw. Maybe fury. Maybe instinct. Maybe the thought of someone else, someone small and helpless, curled inside her. Someone she’d tried to shield. Someone she was losing now.

This place was supposed to be her sanctuary. Now it was a grave.

The stone floor around her was littered. Shell casings glinted in the crooked light, catching just enough glow to show they were fresh. Still warm. Red and white roses lay crushed beside them, petals trampled and turning brown, some plastered to the blood. The air reeked of gunpowder, sharp and bitter, cutting through the sweeter rot.

And in the middle of the wreckage, Taehyung Kim stood.

Nothing about him was out of place. The suit was charcoal, sharp at the edges, made to measure and too expensive for a place like this. The shirt beneath it was blindingly white, clean and untouched. Three of its buttons were left undone and you could see a thin, gold chain dangling from his neck.

The world around him was torn to pieces—blood smeared across the floor, bullet casings still spinning in the dust, the air thick with what had just transpired not even twenty minutes before—but he stood there like none of it had touched him. Not even in passing. He looked like a mourner. Maybe even a priest. But he wasn’t either.

He was the reason why the entire Groban family was gone, and the bride to be was laying on those steps.

The light caught his face in strange ways, shadows carving into the sharp lines of his jaw and beneath his eyes. His expression didn’t give anything away. No guilt. No satisfaction. Just… stillness. That dangerous, unreadable kind. Behind him, the crucifix hung crooked on the wall, blackened with time, the figure above warped by rot. Its arms stretched wide, but it didn’t look like salvation anymore.

It looked like surrender.

And then, Taehyung moved.

No hurry. No sound. Just a single step down the aisle, then another, cutting through the streaks of blood like he couldn’t feel them. When he reached her, he didn’t hesitate. He dropped to one knee beside her the way some men kneel before a proposal, or a grave.

Like it was familiar.

His hands rested on his thighs. He didn’t reach for her. Didn’t try to help. He just watched. Quiet. Careful.

The blood had dried into a crusted line at her temple, cracking where it clung to the fine hairs around her face. Her lip was split, puffy, dark with bruising. Her dress hung in shreds, soaked and torn, the fabric stuck to her skin like a second, ruined layer. Her chest moved—barely—with each breath, and every rise and fall looked like a negotiation her body was losing.

Taehyung didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

Whatever emotion passed behind his eyes was faint—almost nothing—but it was there. A flicker. Not guilt, not quite. Something murkier. Something harder to name. Maybe recognition. Maybe the aftertaste of a feeling he'd long stopped claiming.

She was still alive. Barely.

Her breath rattled in her chest, dragging in air with a sound that didn’t quite resemble breathing anymore. More like something breaking, slowly.

He reached into his jacket.

There was no urgency in the motion. He pulled out a handkerchief—folded tight, corners crisp. White, like the shirt. A monogram in navy blue stitched into one edge: T.K. Simple serif letters. A detail meant for someone who believed their things mattered enough to mark them.

He unfolded it with care. Almost like he was preparing for something sacred.

Then he leaned in and began to wipe the blood from her face.

The movement was slow. Precise. Her temple first. Then the curve of her cheek. The corner of her mouth. His hand barely touched her skin, the cloth gliding with an eerie gentleness—like he wasn’t cleaning a dying woman, but handling something fragile. Precious. A relic he didn’t want to break any further.

The handkerchief turned red instantly. It soaked up the blood like it had been waiting for it.

She twitched. It was the smallest thing. A spasm. A tremor. Enough to show she was still in there somewhere.

Her one good eye peeled open—just a sliver—and found him. Locked onto him like a compass needle. Even through the haze, even drowning in pain, she saw him. Really saw him.

And what was in her gaze wasn’t surrender.

It was fire. Small. Fading. But still alive.

Anger. Refusal. A jagged piece of something that refused to die just because everything else already had.

Taehyung smiled.

A twitch of his mouth. Not a grin. Not warmth. Just the echo of something old—some past life where he knew how to smile like a person. It didn’t fit here. Not in this broken chapel. Not above this broken body.

But he let it sit there anyway.

When he spoke, his voice was low, casual. Like they were sharing a memory.

“Do you find me sadistic?”

He asked it like it was a real question. No sarcasm. No menace. Just curiosity. Like he honestly wanted to know.

She didn’t answer.

Her mouth parted, but all that came out was air. A dry, ragged sound caught somewhere between a breath and a refusal. Her jaw clenched. Her eye never left him.

She never looked away.

His gaze drifted away from her, slow and unhurried, as if he were walking through a memory instead of a crime scene.

Down the aisle. Across pews littered with the dead—bodies collapsed where they’d fallen, limbs twisted awkwardly, some with eyes still open, staring at nothing. The light coming through the broken stained glass scattered in warped patches, crawling across the stone floor like shards of color spilled from a broken bottle.

And there, near the altar—Thomas Groban. Tommy Boy. Face down. One arm caught underneath him, the other stretched out like he’d tried to reach her in those final seconds. The gold ring on his finger caught a sliver of that fractured light—just enough to glint, just enough to remind anyone watching that once, not so long ago, he’d stood right here. Beside her. Holding her hand. Promising things like always and forever.

Now there was only silence.

Taehyung sneered at his mop of golden blonde hair. Tommy's blue eyes were curiously looking at him nearly twenty minutes before. Now he was staring at nothing but the cold wooden floor of the chapel and his own blood. He stared at the Groban boy for a while. Longer than the moment called for. Something flickered behind his eyes, but it didn’t settle into an expression.

Then he turned back to the bride. She was staring at him with unadulterated hatred. Taehyung knew that look all too well, and he had been on the receiving end of it quite a few times. Back then, though, he would call her a cunt and she’d laugh. Then they’d kiss and make up. Now, he knew how this was going to end, and there would be no laughter or kisses. There would never be another make up. Today was the end.

“In another time,” he said quietly, like the thought had come to him just then, “men like me were called kings.”

There was no irony in it. Just a simple truth spoken into the stillness. He let it hang in the air for a second.

“In this one?” His breath slipped out with a humorless laugh—dry, like old dust. “We get called monsters. Or CEOs.”

He reached again for the handkerchief, though by now it was ruined—red soaked deep into the white cotton, no part of it clean. Bending down, he adjusted his pants before reaching up to her face. He dabbed at her cheek and the blood smeared more than it cleared. Still, he kept at it.

She flinched, pain blossoming on her skin. Still, she held his gaze. Taehyung’s expression was blank but his voice seemed almost warm. Sweet, even. Like he was talking to a child. It reminded her of the times they would lay around the fire pit in his backyard and stare at the stars.

And his voice lowered, barely more than a breath. “But you,” he said, “you made it difficult.”

His jaw tightened. He swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t have made me love you.”

He looked down. Not at her—just at the space between them.

“You know, kiddo…” he murmured, the nickname burning a hole in her chest, “I like to think you’re still aware enough to understand this isn’t sadism.”

His voice stayed calm.

“This is me at my most masochistic.”

She coughed.

The sound tore through the air—wet and sharp, like something inside her had given way. Blood slid from the corner of her mouth, catching on her teeth, her chin, her collarbone. Her lips moved again, slower this time. Straining.

He leaned in close, just enough to catch it.

“Tae…” she whispered.

It stopped him. Not for long. Just a moment. But it was enough to freeze the air between them, to crack open the part of him he’d been holding shut for too long.

He stood. Slowly. His hand moved to the holster at his side, pulling the revolver free in one smooth motion. The gun gleamed even in the fractured light—a sleek, polished silver that looked like it belonged on display, not in a place like this. Not surrounded by bodies and blood and ruin.

She would’ve recognized it.

She’d given it to him once, back when gifts meant something, back when she was his viper and he still believed he could tame her. Back when they were dangerous together—but not deadly. Back when he had loved her and made her world go round.

Now it was just another line they couldn’t uncross.

He raised it. The barrel stopped a breath above her brow. Steady. Unshaking.

She didn’t move. Didn’t close her eyes. Her lips parted, working around one last breath, one last word, shaped with whatever strength she had left.

“It’s your bab—”

The shot cut her off mid-sentence. One sharp, shattering crack. The sound lashed through the wooden beams, rang off the stone walls, and bounced back.

Her head snapped back as if yanked by some invisible string, then lolled forward. Her eye, the one still visible, stared blankly ahead.. Her lips parted slightly as if to finish her thought, but no sound came. Her fingers, once tense, unfurled slowly, releasing nothing at all.

Taehyung stood over her.

His hand still held the revolver, lowered now, almost forgotten. The weight of it felt heavier than before. There was something tight in his chest, a pressure that wasn’t grief—not quite. And it wasn’t regret either, not in any clean, mournful way. It was rawer than that. Messier. A jagged sensation, like something vital had been torn from him, and only now did his body begin to register the pain.

The rage that had consumed him minutes earlier had burned out too quickly. All that remained were embers and smoke. Ashes in his throat. He’d come here with purpose, driven by a need to end something—to make her silence permanent, to settle old scores. Now it was done. The story had ended. But the weight didn’t lift.

His breath came low and steady, more habit than will. He looked down at his hands. Blood streaked across his knuckles. Must have blown back on him. Slowly, methodically, he wiped them clean on a torn handkerchief pulled from his pocket. The fabric, already covered in Y/N’s blood, soaked up the red greedily. He folded it neatly, each crease sharp, precise. He tucked it back into his coat.

He smoothed the front of his jacket. Adjusted the cuffs. Straightened his spine. A last defense against what was unraveling inside. And then he looked at her one final time.

That was all he would allow himself.

Her words clung to the edges of his memory, a whisper threatening to root itself deeper. He didn’t know if he believed her. He wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. Maybe it was true. Maybe it was just a final ploy—her last hand played too late. A lie meant to break his resolve. She had always known how to twist the blade.

But none of that could be undone now.

He would have to tell Namjoon. There was no avoiding that. His younger brother would be waiting just beyond the chapel doors—pacing the gravel path, fists clenched, rage simmering under the surface. Taehyung could already feel the tension pressing in from outside, a storm gathering breath, waiting to break. Namjoon had opposed this from the very start. He had argued, pleaded, demanded another way. But in the end, he'd relented—not because he agreed, but because Taehyung had asked him to.

None of them had truly wanted this—not in their hearts, not when stripped of loyalty and obligation. Not even Jimin, who perhaps had the most personal reason to see it done. Not even Yoongi, who had once loved Y/N with a quiet intensity that still lingered even when he said it hadn’t.

Brandi had wanted it. Eagerly. Almost too much. Her hate for Y/N had always burned wild and senseless, a deep-rooted bitterness that Taehyung had never fully understood. The others chalked it up to jealousy—said Y/N had something Brandi never could. But that answer felt too simple. Brandi’s rage was deeper than a simple jealousy, and Y/N had never stopped herself from biting back ten times harder when they would get into their spats. And now that Y/N was dead, she’d probably smile in the mirror and try her best to get back into Taehyung’s bed.

Not that he would ever put up much of a fight.

Jimin and Yoongi had followed for reasons far more transactional. Yoongi had secured control of Busan through his compliance—he played the long game and played it well. Jimin had been promised his freedom, the chance to leave the dirt behind and chase something gentler: Loretta Bell, the doctor with warm hands and soft eyes waiting for him in California. That was enough for him.

Namjoon had followed for only one reason: because his brother asked. Because Taehyung needed him to. That loyalty was a burden now, and it would cost them both.

Because this—this changed everything.

If what she said was true… If the child was his…

Then no one would forgive him. Not fully. Maybe not ever. Maybe not even himself.

Brandi would stay by his side—that much was certain. She always did. But her loyalty wasn’t born of belief or conviction. It was hunger. A calculated desire to win him over, to be the last one left standing beside him, no matter what it cost. She had always wanted to please him ever since he saved her from the shithole she called a life.

Namjoon would erupt. Taehyung could already hear the sharp edge in his brother’s voice, the disbelief curdling into fury. He would see this not as a necessary act, not as strategy, but as betrayal. As murder. As something that went past whatever moral line Taehyung had left.

Yoongi would go silent. That was his way. But silence didn’t mean peace. He had claimed he was done with Y/N, that whatever they’d once had was long extinguished. But Taehyung had never fully bought it. There was still a softness in Yoongi, buried under all the steel and shadows, and it had always been reserved for her.

If Yoongi even suspected the baby wasn’t Tommy Groban’s…

He would disappear without ceremony. Vanish deeper into the folds of the South Korean underworld, taking Lynn Easton with him. No more border runs. No more favors. Busan would swallow him whole. And it would take Taehyung years—if ever—to earn his trust back.

Jimin would be angry, too. Quietly, bitterly so. But he would compartmentalize it like he did everything else. He’d take the freedom he’d been promised and Loretta Bell’s waiting hand, and he’d vanish into the California haze, determined to start fresh. He wouldn’t look back.

Taehyung closed his eyes for half a second, then forced the thoughts away. He buried them deep, past the guilt, past the confusion, past the splinter of fear he hadn’t dared name. He couldn’t afford to unravel now. Not here. Not yet.

Y/N had always known how to twist him into knots—how to pull at the seams. Even dead, she still had a hand around his throat. She had been brilliant. Beautiful. Dangerous in ways he hadn’t seen coming until it was too late. A born liar who wielded the truth like a blade. She could say a thing so convincingly it felt like gospel, even when it was poison.

And now, she’d left behind one final snare. One last doubt. A whisper that would haunt him, nested in blood and smoke and silence.

Even in dying, she had made sure he wouldn’t walk away clean.

His footsteps echoed across the chapel floor—sharp, deliberate, precise. The sound reverberated through the wreckage, past shattered glass and stained wood. The air hung heavy with the acrid stench of gunpowder and blood, laced with fading incense and the ghost of prayers that no longer mattered.

He moved past her body, still at the altar. Past the ruined pews and broken vows. Past the promises whispered into darkness, too late to be kept.

He didn’t look back.

There was nothing behind him worth remembering.

Taglist: @haru-jiminn @fancypeacepersona @futuristicenemychaos @cranberrycupcake @mar-lo-pap @wannaghostbts @solephile @paramedicnerd004 @stargirl-mayaa

[bubbbii]

A Birthday Promise

title : A Birthday Promise

pairing : Jungkook x Reader

genre : kpop smut, Jungkook smut, BTS smut, very dirty content

warning : name - calling, doggystyle, missionary, scratching, hair - pulling, birthday sex, choking, 21+ content

Summary :

“I could tell .. you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat”

[Hope uu guys enjoyed the Namjoon Smut ☺️]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

do not steal idea or story without permission please and thank you :)

Legoo

_______________________________________________

“Birthday Girl!! Plans is still on for tonight?” “Of course! I had invited sum extra people but everyone is gonna have their own table and such and we’ll all be together” “Sounds like a plan! How’s you and uh … Lucas?” “We stop talking, you know that. I blocked him, but it’s rumors that he’ll be attending tonight at the restaurant” “Uh oh, are you worried?” “Of course not, try anything you know my brother don’t play that” “Yea Namjoon he’s uh … something” “Tell me ‘bout it”

“Dress is still as planned?” “Yess i thank my girl Rosie for hooking me up, it’s gorgeous … but she told me someone had payed for it and won’t tell me who did” “Ain’t that a mystery” “Yea … and i’m gonna find out” “Y/N!” I recognize the voice of my brother, sighing as i went downstairs out of my room. “I need to take that key away from you” “Oh I love you too” I chuckled, feeling the kiss planted on the top of my head. “I’M HEREEE” I chuckled, hanging up the phone as Lisa arrived at the front door.

“You could’ve told me you were coming while you were on the phone with me” “But why would i do that that’ll ruin the surprise” I chuckled, feeling her embrace as she closed the door behind her. “As a tribute, i will be driving Y/N to her birthday dinner slash party” “Aww thank you Jiminie” “Since when did you tribute to anything?” I glared at Namjoon at his comment as Jimin huffed. “Anything for Y/N .. she’s getting old” “Uhh one year older?!” “Exactly” I smacked his head rolling my eyes as i made my way to a chair in the living room.

“But you know i wasn’t the only one, your little boyfriend tributes as well” I scoffed. “Which one, for sum reason there seems to be multiple” “And we don’t claim Lucas .. we’re talking about the boyfriend you won’t give a chance” I sighed softly, crossing my legs as i had an idea on who the “boyfriend” was. “How come” “It’s your birthday .. you know he won’t give up. Especially now knowing that you’re done with Lucas? He’s definitely shooting it! And i’m letting him” I sighed again.

“Y/N he’s good! You think i’ll let him come near you if i didn’t think he was fit ? He means good , despite just being a little younger” “2 years Joon .. i don’t wanna be a cougar!” “Is that all Y/N? You have no reason to NOT give that man a chance trust me he’s more mature than Lucas will ever be and he’s OLDER than you! Kook means good … even Jimin said it” “And ya’ll two should know out of all of us that my spirit, never lies”

It’s true.

“I don’t know Joon .. he could just be doing this for a bet” “Sis listen, don’t let what Lucas planted in your head block something that could be .. a lifetime! You don’t wanna give it a shot because he’s younger than you .. you don’t wanna give it a shot because you’re scared to try again” I gulped, the words cutting deep as i took a deep breath. As much as i wanted to shove those words back down his throat. I know i needed to hear them.

He knows exactly what to say to me.

“Now, he’s gonna take you to your dinner, i already talked to him” “Hey!” “Jimin now you know you wasn’t takin this girl! You know me better than that” Jimin sighed, agreeing as I looked at the two. “What if .. i don’t want him driving me?” “I know you better than that” Namjoon replied, walking off into the kitchen as i chuckled. “Trust me .. this is gonna be good!”

“How come Lisa? He’s right .. i’m scared! Jungkook is .. 2 years younger than me!” “Uhh Chen is 2 years younger than me and look how we turned out! Age doesn’t matter when that person you call ‘young’ had to grow up early and didn’t have a choice. He’s good boo. Now come on, let’s gon head and get sum to eat, and get ready. Tonight is gonna be amazing” I smiled, getting up to join the 2 boys in the kitchen.

Tonight will, be amazing.

Time Skip.

“You look .. beautiful” I smiled at myself in the mirror, admiring every curve that was shown, ever piece of skin that was exposed, every jewel that shined in the light … 25 looking good on me. “Sexy .. Grown, and Sexy. You” “You think so?” “Oh i know so! They’re gonna be looking at you” Lisa responded, coming up beside me to fix finishing touches as she was all done up as well. “You’re the star my love!” Definitely felt good going into this dinner.

“Now let’s go ahead grab our belongings and head on downstairs Joon and Jimin are waiting” I sprayed my perfume on me, grabbing my purse and watch before turning off the lights in the room. “Presenting! Queen Y/N” the two boys looked and saw me coming down the stairs, the heels clicking ever so lightly on the marble floor. “Oh i’m getting my instagram photos in” “My little sister not so little anymore” I smiled widely, finding warmth in my brothers embrace. “You know you’ll always be Oppa” Namjoon’s dimples showed, planting a soft kiss on my head.

“The others just made it to the venue, everyone’s there waiting for you Y/N!” The doorbell rung as everyone grabbed their belongings and Lisa opened the door to see a tall figure. “Ms Y/N … your driver has arrived right on time” Lisa announced, smirking at the younger man as she locked eyes with me, whose eyes were on the younger man.

The man’s hair was long and curly, the silky button up hugging his big boy muscles just right, and topped it with nice slacks and dress shoes. “We’ll leave yall too it, just don’t take too long” Namjoon interrupted, the 3 leaving.

And it was just me and Jungkook.

“You look .. very beautiful” “Yea .. thank you Jungkook. You look good yourself” Jungkook scoffed, looking down at himself. “Love those heels?” “They’re comfortable and stilettos! Thank you very much” Jungkook chuckled as i chuckled along with him, grabbing my purse. “You’re gonna be great, star of the show” “I’m always am” The two couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, the tension rising by the second. “Give in already”

And Y/N was ready to do just that.

“What are you talking about” “All you can do is stare but won’t do anything? Why? You’re afraid?” “Jungkook don’t start this” “I will .. i am” Jungkook said with a quickness, crossing his arms. “Everyone as gifts, on the tables and such. But my gift? Is a promise to you that you’ll have EVERYTHING you need in life i made a promise to myself that when i was ready Y/N you’ll be the one i run to. And think that i’m joking?” I sighed, my body getting heated.

And i couldn’t take it.

I smashed my lips on his, wrapping my arms around his neck as he held me close. He deepened the kiss, feeling every inch of me as i cupped his cheeks into my hands. We kissed for a little more, before slowly breaking it, our foreheads connecting. “Fuck” I breathed out, my eyes shut as felt Jungkook’s embrace. “Consider this a teaser, for when I give you my present” Jungkook smirked, making me chuckle at his words. “Got me a little excited” Jungkook hummed, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

“Well let’s get going, you got hundreds waiting for you” I smiled, seeing him turn off the lights and grabbed me by the hand and headed to the car. Once we got inside and drove off to the packed venue.

~~

Everyone had a blast, the night went on with drinks, food, laughter. It was what I imagined it to be, I couldn’t ask for anything more. “You’re in your thoughts! What’s going on?” Taehyung asked, crossing his legs as he sat beside me. “Nothing nothing just, calming myself down it’s so much haha” “Girl, now you know i know you right? Is it Jungkook?” “Ok me and Jungkook had a heated moment before we got here” “I knew it” I sighed, landing a head on Tae’s shoulder.

“Tae he’s everything i want! Everything i … I need” “Baby stop letting that bitch of a man get in the way of finding your blessing! Jungkook IS everything you need and you know that, so stop trying to fight it because we all see right through you. He sees it the most. Give the man a chance Y/N trust my word!” I sighed, giving Tae puppy eyes. “You serious?” “I’m deadass! He don’t play bout you. Speaking of .. where is Kook?” I looked at our table, and he wasn’t near. Nerves struck me and Tae got up and searched the huge restaurant from our point of view. No where.

“Outside?” Me and Tae went outside, to see 4 men. And i knew exactly who they were. One, wish i didn’t make eye contact with. “Y/N! Tell these men to get off my fucking back!” “I’m her brother i do what i want” “Guys whats going on?” “He decided he wanted to cause ruckus so i led him outside and Jungkook and Joon just happen to follow” Hoseok replied to Taehyung. “Lucas what are you doing here?” “To celebrate your birthday of course! If these dickheads would allow me?!” “You’re yelling doesn’t scare me” Jungkook said with calming energy. My hand made contact with his causing him to look at me.

“Come on, please” “Oh so ya’ll a thing now?” “It’s not like that Lucas, and besides it’s nun of your business what i got going on right now!” “Oh really? I’m that easy to get over?” “Y/N-“ “No no .. she got it” Joon stepped in interrupting Jungkook. “We were happy! You did it because you were bored!” “No - YOU WERE HAPPY! Who told you i was happy !? It wasn’t like we were dating because of this - fairytale that you planted in my head … YOU DID THAT! Lead me on and dug a grave to put me in Lucas. I cut you off because if i held off any longer i would’ve put my OWN DAMN SELF in that grave. But listen here, what I got going on and who i got going on right now and got shit to do with you and you’ll never understand”

“This little boy-“ “Little boy!? Lucas let me tell you something here, this ‘little boy’ will ever be more of a MAN you’ve ever been Lucas. He doesn’t show that he just wants my body, whenever i can be his uber driver that’s convenient to him, he cares for me and i actually feel LOVED from this ‘love’ shit! So i’ll leave you with this .. may my scars, and my tears wear you like a damn sweatshirt to remind you and every girl you come crosses with that i gave you that ego. You’ll never find someone like me” I poured out, taking a deep breath as i turned around and went inside the restaurant with everyone following me.

“I didn’t think you were like that” “Then you must not know Y/N, look where she gets it from” Namjoon hummed, agreeing with Hobi as i shook my head. “I didn’t want you to see that” I spoke, looking up at Jungkook. “I was right behind you, you handled that very well” “ALRIGHT GUYS LETS SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” Everyone gathered around, singing happy birthday as i blew out the candles afterwards.

The cheers filled my ears as i smiled ear to ear. “Toast!? Y/N .. cheers too?” Namjoon announced, everyone holding up glasses and the room went silent as they waited for my words. I took my glass, looking at the wine swirling inside. “Cheers .. to a better lifestyle, better days,” I started, now locking eyes with Jungkook. “And new beginnings” I finished, everyone cheering as everyone clinked their glasses and drunk what was in their cup. “New beginnings huh?” I hummed, feeling Jungkook’s warmth as he closed the gap between us.

“I’m curious .. wise person told me to stop being afraid. I-I’m ready” I responded, looking into his eyes. I couldn’t get enough. “You had a good time?” “I did, tonight was amazing” “Good .. because i’m about to make it even better” Jungkook whispered, winking at me before moving away and left out the venue. My eyes widened, speed walking towards Tae, Jimin, Joon, and Lisa who were all in a group.

“Jungkook .. he-“ “We saw it all .. don’t worry i took care of everything. The rest would be at the house when we’re finished cleaning everything and pack the gifts, you’re gonna love what he did for you” I smiled ear to ear, hugging Namjoon as i rushed out the door and into the car with Jungkook.

~~~

We got out the car, Jungkook opening the door for me and soon turned on the lights leaving my eyes to widened. Rose petals were all over the floor, the modern living room decorated nicely with dark red decorations. I soon saw the luxury gift bags on the table which made me run over to them hearing Jungkook chuckle at my silliness. “Jungkook!! For me!?” “All for you” I looked at everything, landing a hand on his chest. “You like it?” “I love it kook, thank you” I responded, locking eyes with him.

And i definitely couldn’t take it.

I kissed him hungrily, wrapping my arms around his neck feeling his hands hold me close. “I’ve been waiting for this” Jungkook whispered out, picking me up and set me on the spacious black couch of mine. He took off my heels, lips still attatched to mine as he took off his shirt, and unzipped my dress which left me in my bra and panties.

“Ohh my pretty girl, in my favorite color” Jungkook cocked having me roll my eyes. “I didn’t wear this for you” “Oh you didn’t wear it for me?” I huffed, knowing i was in a trap and he chuckled. “You look beautiful” I hummed softly, feeling him gently kiss on my neck down my collarbone, and all the way down to my aching hood. He cupped it with the tatted hand of his, making my body jolt feeling the pleasure rise in my body. “Fuck .. please” “that feels good?” he moved his hand in circulation motion automatically having my hips roll with it.

“Oh she’s needy, don’t worry … i’ll take good care of you” Jungkook commented, turning his voice into a whisper as he slid my panties to the side and threw them on the spot beside him. “Raise your legs up high for me” I did as told, spreading my legs and he dug inside, devouring every juice that dripped into his mouth. “Oooh fuck! Just like that, fuck!” “Hold still princess” my arms wrapped his neck, my thighs trapping him as it motivated him to keep going.

He was not slowing down.

“Y-You’re going so fast … fuck!” “You might have a clue on what i’m trying to get you to do” My moans got breathless, feeling his tongue work skillfully in my folds, the tip of his tongue flicking up my clit. “I-I don’t wanna cum yet! I feel close already!” Jungkook chuckled, pussy sounds feeling my ears as he slobbered all over it. “You’re gonna cum when i want you too .. we’re on the same page?” I whined, but i felt him stop as his eyes locked with mine with a quickness. “Are we?” “Y-Yes, yes daddy”

Jungkook wasted no time, going back and sucking me out. This time, he used not even half his strength just to get me over the edge. “I feel close already.. i feel close i think i’m gonna cum!” “Oh you wanna cum for daddy? Cum for me princess it’s your day, cum for me baby girl” My back arched, feeling my juices flow all over, Jungkook being there to suck it all up as he moaned with me.

“My good girl, my good fucking girl good job. Good job baby” I moaned softly, seeing him slowly move away as his fingers moved up and down the outside slowly making me jolt a little bit. “Baby sensitive?” “N-No .. no i want you, please” Jungkook smirked, hovering over me as he landed his lips on mine. He took his pants off swiftly, his lips still attached to mine as he grinds against me. “Feel that? Feel that hard cock?” Jungkook whispered in my ear, making me whine as i bucked my hips.

“P-Please put it in” “How about you do that?” I grabbed it, slowly stuck it in and he did the rest by slowly pushing it in. My eyes rolled at the back of my head, feeling the big cock fill every single corner every single space inside me. “So f-full .. shit” “Tell me when you’re ready, fuck i need to stretch you out” “Slow .. slow please” Jungkook followed orders, slowly snapping his hips against me, hearing myself hiss and my pussy clenching around him.

“Fuckkk it feels so good, keep going, faster” “You need to loosen up for me baby. Come on open up for daddy” Jungkook grunted, his hips moving a bit faster as i started to loosen up little by little for him. “How long we going for this pace?” “O-Ok you can go just try-“ Jungkook wasted no time and fucked into me with no mercy behind it. He snapped his hips with all his might, hearing my screams and moans fill his ears. “YES! YES YES YES JUST LIKE THAT! J-JUST LIKE THAT DADDY FUCK!” “Keep going for me, clench on me like that you like that shit? You like daddy fucking you like that you little slut?”

I couldn’t take it, he was making me feel good in all the right places … he knew i needed this. How much i wanted this. And i applaud him for not giving up.

Because boy i would be shitty.

“I feel close.. i feel close, daddy” “You wanna cum together?” I nodded, pulling him closer and smashed my lips on his, feeling his hips snap faster against me and my insides starting to feel tense. “You ready?” “Y-Yea yea yea i’m cumming! I’m cumming daddy cum in me!” Jungkook groaned, hiding his face in my neck and we soon came together, both of us releasing all the sounds we wanted. He filled me, fucking me slowly before stopping completely and pulled out the soft cock. “You’re ok?” I nodded softly, feeling his soft kisses.

“Promise me … we’ll stick it out?” Jungkook smiled softly, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Consider this .. a Birthday promise”

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #55

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

​​“You okay?” Namjoon asks after a few moments of silent walking, your thoughts running wild until they stop and your entire mind is just… blank. 

“Mhm.” 

Namjoon doesn’t look like he wants to pry, probably contemplating between being respectful or caring enough to talk to you some more. Your short attempt of response says the opposite of what he’s asking. 

“Okay…” he mumbles just as you reach the cabin. He holds the door for you and all you can muster in return is a weak attempt to smile in gratitude. Met with a dimpled smile, he motions his head toward bathrooms. “Go, take your time. I’ll wait here.” 

Nodding, you see him sitting on one of the couches you sat just two hours ago, waiting for Yoongi. God, you can’t even bring yourself to wonder how it’s looking at the campfire. 

Are they questioning Jungkook? Are things awkward? Well, the two of you have taken care of that. 

The throb between your legs starts to intensify as soon as you get under the warm water, cheek stinging which makes you hiss. It’s nothing serious, not even the stinging bothers you just as much as the fact that it’s a fucking reminder. 

To be honest, you’re not quite sure how to feel. Are you disappointed? Despite all that, you don’t regret having sex. It eased some of the anger and you both needed that. Even if it wasn’t the smartest decision in terms of your situation. This has just gotten even more serious without any of you wanting it. Talking seemed out of question. You weren’t ready to talk for whatever dumb reason. And then things escalated. So much that you’re in this mess deeper than at the beginning. 

It started with dumb argument over your ridiculous jealousy and escalated so much that you’ve argued with Jungkook again. And then he fucked you in the freaking woods. 

Rubbing your face harshly, you wince at the pain your uncontrollable rubbing causes to your cheek. Washing off any other remains of the sex — the washable ones at least — you get out of the shower and dry yourself. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting regardless of his decision and the kindness of accompanying you here. You dry your hair quickly too, shrugging off the fact that you didn’t previously want to get your hair wet. But in your empty slash frustrated state you got under the shower fast and mindlessly, hoping it would clear your mind. 

Once you step out of the bathroom and see Namjoon patiently waiting, the door opens and Taehyung walks in. His eyes find you across the room, long strides coming up to you just as Namjoon notices you and second after he does Taehyung. 

“I got it from here, Joon.” Taehyung says, clasping his hand over Namjoon’s shoulder. “Are you good walking back on your own?” 

“Mm, yeah.” he says, not sounding too sure but he decides to give you and him space. 

You watch him walk away, out of the cabin into the warm summer night as you stare, dumbfounded. “What is this about?” 

Your questioning doesn’t surprise Taehyung, his face clear off any hint of amusement or excitement you’re used to seeing on him. Instead, he remains quite serious which for obvious reasons makes you uneasy. Taehyung can be serious. You’ve witnessed it a handful of times but this time, it feels different. Maybe it’s just because of what happened. 

After all, you’re quite embarrassed how things ended up — especially when there are other people who might not have witnessed everything (thank god) but they’ve witnessed enough for you to feel embarrassed. They clearly know you and Jungkook are not on good terms, they must’ve known shortly after you arrived. But right now they know things are even more intense. Argh! It’s not like you care too much about them, but it’s embarrassing regardless. 

“I just wanna talk. Should we go outside?” 

“Tae,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna talk about that.” 

“We don’t have to talk about that specifically,” he assured you calmly. “About Jungkook, I mean. I just wanna talk.” 

He’s got something to tell you. Sighing once again, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Talking outside does sound better. It’s awfully quiet in this cabin and even though you’re sure the elder man doesn’t care about some stupid drama between two best friends and horny freaks, you do feel comfortable it’s just you and Taehyung talking.

You walk outside and end up following Taehyung to the porch. “You good?” 

“Why’s everyone asking me that?” you exclaim. 

“Damn, sorry for asking,” Taehyung mutters, “You don’t look good, that’s why.” 

“Damn, sorry.” you mutter back, a quiet snicker leaving his mouth as he motions his head for you to follow him. 

Walking down the few stairs, your feet touch the grass and Taehyung leads you around the cabin until you reach a corner. He pulls out something from his pocket, two items actually as you watch lighter being lit up. Brows raised in surprise, you watch Taehyung put a cigarette between his lips as he lights it up. He breathes out a cloud of smoke, away from you. 

“You smoke?” 

It’s no breaking news. You’ve seen once or twice Taehyung lit up a cigarette. But all of those occasions (rare occasions) were when he was wasted. 

“Just a new habit.” he explains, offering you his cigarette as you shake your head with a short nose scrunch. He smiles at that. 

Maybe you could use a cigarette. Would it ease your nerves? You’re not sure. You’re not a smoker. Would it solve your problems? Hell no. 

“I wanted to apologize.” he says after a minute, catching your surprised eyes. 

“You wanted to… apologize?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have sent you on that walk.” 

Damn he shouldn’t have. You wouldn’t have fucked Jungkook in the woods if he didn’t. But unfortunately, that’s not Taehyung’s fault. 

“I thought you and Kook just needed to talk. I thought you would talk and you would come back fine.” 

Your features soften, staring into the night. 

“I fucked up, Tae.” you say quietly. 

“How?” he questions, puffing out another smoke.

“I just did.” 

He doesn’t push you for further explanation, even though the typical Taehyung probably itches to know more. But deep down you know he’s respectful and can differentiate between serious and too serious. 

“And you meant well.” 

“Huh?” 

You chuckle. ���You meant well by sending us to talk. You were right. We were ruining everyone’s time here. We still are.” 

“That’s not what I said though…” 

“Come on,” You give him a pointed look. “Everyone’s already thinking it.” 

“Y/N,” Taehyung sighs, “You’re not ruining anyone’s time here. You and Kook just have your own shit going on. And you seemed to not solve it in any way. You two just need to talk, but now I understand it needs to be at your own pace.”

“We should talk. I just—I can’t explain it. I was just so mad and annoyed that I couldn’t. We are too annoyed at each other to have a decent conversation. I’m scared to talk because I’m scared it’s gonna end up even in a bigger argument.” 

You toss your stuff onto the grass and lean against the wall beside Taehyung. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“I don’t know. I never had to deal with shit like this.” he confesses, grins cracking on your lips for a short moment. 

You wish you could just tell Taehyung everything. To get it off your chest, to explain why you behaved the way you did. What started the argument and overall, just explain the things from your perspective. But then… Do you want to talk about it? You’re genuinely tired. You’re that kind of person who needs to get stuff off your chest as soon as possible. But it doesn’t seem right at the moment. 

“I’m fucking confused,” he mutters suddenly. “I’m confused how all of this even started. Do you not like Ester or something?” 

Here’s Taehyung’s straightforwardness. 

You understand why he’s asking that. 

“No, I do. She’s a nice girl.” 

Taehyung hums, obviously having something on top of his tongue but he keeps his mouth shut. 

“I was just being dumb. I overreacted.” you explain briefly. Which to be honest, gives Taehyung zero explanation whatsoever. 

“I mean… she’s too quiet and shy in my opinion,” You give him a look again with a raised brow. “But,” he continues. “She seems like a nice girl, like you said.” 

“… yeah.” 

“Look, I won’t pry any further. You clearly don’t wanna tell me which is fine. I’m kinda hurt by that but it’s fine,” He tries to joke as you crack a saddened smile. “But I’m here if you wanna talk. Or share whatever is troubling that mind of yours.” 

“Thanks, Tae.” you almost whisper, bottom lip slightly pouting. 

Taehyung notices just as he finishes his cigarette. He tosses it onto the ground, puts it out by stepping on it with his slide. “Come here.” 

And he pulls you to him before you can protest. Cheek pressed against his chest, you hug him back as his warmth and scent envelopes you as well. 

“I’m gonna cry if we hug.” 

“Don’t cry, you’re gonna ruin my shirt.” Taehyung complains, causing you to giggle through your pain. 

“You’re such a menace. And you smell of cigarettes and beer.” you complain into his shirt. That’s not entirely true, he doesn’t smell bad at all. Those smells are mixed with his musky cologne. Taehyung smells fucking amazing. 

“Hey, you little shit. Leave me alone.” he laughs, tightening his hold on you before he slowly lets go. 

As you get back, you make your way to Yoongi's car where you put your things back. Ignoring some of the stares you feel on your back, you get inside the caravan for whatever reason. You need some time alone for a little longer.

You stand there, leaning against the small counter with your arms crossed over a chest, staring into nothing as the door open and click shut shortly after. Who's here again? No time for annoyance of your interruption, your entire posture straightens up and arms uncross at the sight of Jungkook. 

His features are firm for a second as the air inside the caravan suddenly feels too suffocating. 

"What are you doing here?" 

Jungkook doesn't miss the cold words, barely reacts as he lifts something in his hand into the air. "Namjoon was about to bring you this, but I snatched it out of his hands." he confesses, ignoring the way your heart falters at his honesty and at the sight of ointment in his own hand. 

"Why?" you ask simply and dumbly. 

He remains silent, closing the space between you as he comes to stand up in front of you. Without any words, he opens the package and scoots a small amount onto his two fingers. "Namjoon's always prepared," he mutters. You're guessing he's trying to fill up the silence and tension.

You watch him putting the ointment on the counter, arm almost brushing your side as you press your lips tightly. That's until he hesitates for a second, eyes searching your face before he gently turns your face to the side, undoubtedly to check on the scratch. It's no disaster, could've been worse. It stings but it's nothing you couldn't have survived.

"I can do it myself." you point out the obvious, voice cold and emotionless.

"Why are you so stubborn, hm?"

Wish you could give him an answer. One that would make sense. 

Jungkook continues to ignore the glare you give him as soon as his fingers inch toward your face. His eyes stay solely on your cheek. "This might hurt a little. I'll try to be gentle." 

Before you can protest, be the stubborn self that you are, he gently stars applying the product on your scratch. You frown and hiss at the same time, automatically flinching as Jungkook mutters a smooth apology but continues the task. Once he's done, he goes to wipe off his fingers from the ointment while your inner cheek is caged between your teeth. You bite harshly on the flesh, feeling like you're about to vomit any second from the emotions.

"Listen," he starts, but you panic and brush past him just for him to catch your forearm. 

"I gotta go." you stupidly inform him, blinking at him as if you had somewhere to be which is ridiculous – you both know that. 

"This went too far," Jungkook continues regardless of your stupid attempt to leave. "I'm ready to talk if you are."

All you offer him is a nod, too busy getting out of the caravan to hear the sigh leaving his mouth. You get to your previous spot, damp hair framing your face as you reach for a bottle of beer. By the time you came back, they had to open a new package considering you've been drinking out of cans before. 

There's a conversation going on, but you're not that stupid not to notice how Seokjin's voice falters for a moment as they notice you joining them. Looking up after the few gulps, you visibly shrug at them. 

"I'm okay, it's just a scratch. I'm sorry about the drama." you mutter the last sentence, knowing each of them has heard you. 

Across the fire, Taehyung's features twist in silent compassion. 

"It's okay," Seokjin assures you as the rest of them nod and hum in agreement. Jungkook comes out of the caravan, fingers running through his hair making them slightly messy as he plops onto his own spot next to Ester. "We all fight and argue. Don't feel bad. Both of you." 

You and Jungkook nod in return, mirroring each other's actions without any words. 

It's crazy how one stupid argument can change things between people. So much that it not only affects your entire day, but your sleep as well. After yesterday's night ended with everyone too tired to continue to talk and drink. You all have had enough. There's no need to get drunk to get wasted on your first night here. Even though a few reasons could've been found, you know better than that. You were tipsy enough to stumble to your tent along with Yoongi, showing him your middle finger as he kept complaining about having to share a sleeping space with you.

You told him to fuck off and he laughed, falling asleep shortly after. You've kept tossing around, waiting for him to wake up and cuss you out for it but he hasn't. He slept deeply, turned to you with his back as soft snores left his mouth here and there. Luckily not loud enough to disturb your lack of sleep.

When after hours of silence and darkness, your eyes shut on their own and so did your mind. The dreams are more disturbing than ever, not allowing you to have at least a peaceful sleep. You kept having mixed dreams of you and Jungkook arguing along with flashbacks of what happened on that stupid dare. Something random got mixed up there too, overall just weird dreams following you until the morning. 

Namjoon's hike is planned for today. It shouldn't take a whole day, two to three hours max but you still refrain yourself from going.

You're not necessarily avoiding Jungkook, but you're not looking to be in his presence either. Not that you don't want to be. But considering there's still lingering tension between you, you don't want to make things even more out of hand or weird. This is not something worth ruining your friendship with him. And you plan to talk to him. Finding the right time is the tougher part though.

You need to grow a pair of balls to do the next step. It's the least you could do. Jungkook came to you yesterday, told you he's ready to talk. And by doing that, he made the first step of approaching you.

Judging how empty he looks like the next morning tells you enough that it has taken a toll on him as well. None of you want this. But you two are also the only ones who can solve everything. Whenever there were previous arguments happening, you've always managed to talk about it in the end. This time it takes longer because you're both stubborn – and got hurt in the process. At the same time, you remind yourself of realizing every moment how stupid all of this is. Seriously, it's ridiculous. 

"Hey, are you joining us?" Maya asks you, tying her shoelaces before she stands up and faces you. 

"No, I think I should stay here. Think things through." you confess, trying to mirror the smile she gives you. 

She's not blind. She saw that you and Jungkook haven't obviously talked. You appreciate she doesn't ask for any details, which is kind of surprising considering her constant nosiness, but you guess she can tell you don't want to talk about it. 

"You know..." she starts hesitantly, "Jealousy is disease," she starts and laughs lightly, but her voice remains soft indicating she means no harm. "But it's also a human emotion. Don't beat yourself over it. We've talked about this and the only solution is--"

"To talk to him." you finish for her. She nods. "I will. He came up to me yesterday, I'm sure you noticed."

She raises her brow and gives you a guilty smile which gives you an answer.

"He said he's ready to talk."

"And you're not?"

Opening your mouth, you're interrupted by oblivious Hoseok who informs Maya that it's time to go. You usher her to go. "We'll talk later."

She nods, giving you a smile in encouragement as she hops off to Namjoon who smiles down at her, wrapping his arm around her frame as he brings her closer.

Since most of them are going on a hike, people who decided not to go will logically prepare the lunch. You've got no problem with that. You gather all the prepared stuff, walking past Taehyung and Jimin's tent that remains shut. Taehyung is sleeping off the hangover.

You and Yoongi meet at the extinguished fireplace, his morning and puffy face a new sight to you. He gives you a glare when he sees your amused face, scratching the back of his head. Who would've pegged him for a sleepyhead? You're surprised he still decided to wake up and help, considering Taehyung flipped off whoever tried to wake him up.

"How's your cheek?" he asks, surprising you by the question and you don't hide it. He visibly shifts uncomfortably on his spot as your lips curl to a half-smirk. 

"Are you concerned about me, Min Yoongi?" 

"Fuck, no." he disagrees immediately, erupting a laugh from you. "You just look like you've been through hell."

Mental hell, you want to correct him.

"Of course I do. Your snores could wake up a dead person." you tease, laughing at the prominent frown on his face. 

"I don't snore loudly, you liar." he says, determined of his truth.

You shrug, "It was worth a try," He rolls your eyes. You still decide to give him an answer, finding it oddly touching that he asked. "It's fine. Hurts a little but it's nothing bad. I will live."

"What a shame." 

He cackles when you throw a plastic bottle at him. He dodges it with a smirk. 

"Must've been a hard fall to scratch your face," he hums, catching your eyes immediately as your glare warns him. "Didn't know you were that clumsy."

He's testing you. There's no way he knows what happened in those woods. He can only assume. Yet, he's here testing and teasing you. You muster the best neutral expression you can, stopping in your tracks. 

"We were there in complete darkness. It's completely normal to stumble or fall."

Yoongi hums in return, luckily not pressing you with his annoying teasing or whatever that was any further. After a minute of taking stuff in and out of the caravan to prepare food for lunch, you stare at Yoongi. His brows are furrowed, though he looks nothing but focused as you call out his name. 

"I'm sorry."

"Pardon?" he blinks. 

"That you had to experience yesterday... I didn't know my argument with Jungkook would get out of hand."

He stares, dumbfounded. "Why are you apologizing to me ?"

"Because I'm embarrassed by it. I really wanted you to have a good time here."

Yoongi sighs, scratching his temple awkwardly before he tosses the pack of meat onto the table. "I am having... a good time here. I would rather be home and chill on my couch," You raise your brow. "But you don't have to apologize to me because of that. That's between you and him."

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nod without looking at him as your thoughts come haunt you again. 

"And everyone's been pretty chill about it, as far as I know. I don't know your friends that much, but they seem to be chill."

"But it's still awkward and embarrassing." you confess weakly, rubbing your forehead with a little whine.

"Do you want my advice?"

"No."

Yoongi presses his lips tightly at the quick response, but still continues regardless. "Just talk to each other. I'm pretty sure you will figure it out. That man is ready to fight for you."

"What?"

"Oh, come on." he rolls his eyes. "He's so protective over you. Since the day I met him."

You know that. Jungkook has been your number one protector for the longest time. No one cares about you the way Jungkook does. Sure, Jimin and Taehyung are the best friends you could've asked for. But Jungkook? He has always had a soft spot for you. He's been the number one person you would go to with any problem. He would never judge you.

One bad look from another person and he would be there, ready to fight your own battles. He is like that with any of his friends. That's what makes him special. That's why everyone loves to have him as their friend. Jungkook is precious. 

But even precious people can piss you off, among other things. It's normal and just because you had some kind of dumb argument doesn't change that fact. Just as it shouldn't define your friendship. 

All emotions come crashing down on you. The regret and guilt, even the stupid anger you tried to justify several times. And for what? Because of your stupid jealousy? Your bottom lip wobbles and Yoongi's eyes widen, probably panicking that you could start crying any time. 

"Don't cry or I'm gonna throw up." 

You snicker, laughing through the pain as your lips naturally pout. Yoongi groans.

"You two are idiots. Besides, since when do you care about anyone else's opinion? Huh? I thought you don't give a fuck."

"I don't know, Yoongi... it seems like I care more than I show." you mockingly point out, hating that you just admitted that out loud. But well – he must've noticed that. 

"What do you want me to do? I'm starting to feel uncomfortable." he confesses with a frown on his lips. 

"Damn. A decent person would offer the other person a hug." you remark, ignoring Yoongi's dramatic lapping for a breath. 

"You want me to hug you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Want is a strong word, dude. But hugs can be nice and help. You act like you haven't done more than that."

Yoongi scrunches his nose. "We," he stops, "We don't talk about that night."

"I know what you're trying to say. It was a mistake." you tell him bluntly.

"It was... it was just a dumb decision at that time."

"That's what you would describe a mistake as." you state dumbfounded. 

"Whatever," he mutters. "Don't bring that up ever again."

"You're the one who's acting like a hug would kill you!" you exclaim with a laugh, hearing him scoff. 

"Oh my god. You're so annoying. Come here." he stomps toward you and before you even catch his words, he pulls you closer to him.

Min Yoongi is hugging you. Freaking Min Yoongi has his arm around your shoulders, patting them awkwardly as you bite back a laugh.

"Is it helping?" he mutters, continuing to pat your shoulder at the same pace as you snicker. 

"I feel weird." you inform him and he hums in confirmation. 

You hear nearby footsteps just as you both pull away from the hug, glancing in the direction of the sound. Jungkook stands a few feet from you two, awkwardly glancing around as he mutters; "Don't let me stop you."

He opens his car, rummaging through something inside until he pulls out his camera out of his camera bag. He shuts the door with a thud, sparing you one last glance before walking away and joining the others where a distant laughter can be heard. They're still around. 

Your mouth is open, closing slowly. What were you supposed to do? To try to convince him that it's not what it looks like? Nothing happened. You won't let your mind feed you with stupid scenarios. Yoongi hugged you, just as weird as it sounds, but there's no point in being dramatic. But the whole situation was slightly awkward and the awkwardness lingers even when Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Considering what you and him bickered about yesterday, you suddenly understand Jungkook's side more. You've brought here a guy you're not exactly friends with. You know Jungkook doesn't like him and the intention of inviting Yoongi to come along is more than clear. Has been from the beginning. After all, you've hooked up with Yoongi. It doesn't matter if you had a proper intercourse or just a part of it. 

You still have something to be upset about. And you are. But seeing it from his perspective makes you understand him more. Not that you make excuses for him. Not at all. You're still mad at what he said back at Taehyung's apartment. He's at fault too. 

You trade your positions, wondering how you would feel if Jungkook invited someone he hooked up with. Purely just to piss you off. Because he hasn't invited poor Ester because of that.

You've fucked up too. You started it.

"See? This is why I don't hug people." Yoongi complains in the back, turning back to his task with a disapproving shake of his head. 

What's so fucking hard on coming to Jungkook and ask him to talk to you? You back off like a coward every time you get the opportunity to do that, whenever he's not surrounded by everyone. That's hard as well. The man seems to be talking to everyone, but no words or looks are exchanged between you. 

Deciding to let it go for a moment, it's better when the right time comes naturally and you won't be stealing glances at him, your legs twitching to move to muster the courage to talk to him. He's Jungkook for fuck sake! 

The only reason why you're so nervous is simple and nothing new. You're scared you talking will only result in more arguing. It's natural and normal for two people with different opinions to argue. Not mentioning all of this is fresh. You can tell by your lingering annoyance and anger. But you should talk as soon as possible. You really don't want to spend the rest of this trip ignoring each other.

You just have to know – no matter what, everything is going to be okay. Even if it doesn't seem like that. 

They've returned from the hike two hours ago, and complimented the food you and Yoongi prepared, since Taehyung woke up in the midst of cooking, refusing to lend a helping hand. 

The constant heat has made all of you fan, deciding to go to the lake again. This time no one really stays behind as everyone wants to freshen up in the water. Even Yoongi which surprises you.

He flashes everyone with his soft skin and toned stomach. Your gazes meet with Maya as she mouths he does have abs to you. You can't help but roll your eyes, laughing at her.

Overall, the atmosphere is loosen up and you find yourself enjoying the moment even with your situation not being sold. You push it back, far away in your mind and focus on your relaxation. That's why you came here, right? 

"Y/N, come here. We need one more person!" Maya calls out to you, in the water with Namjoon and Jungkook. Further away, there are Seokjin and Taehyung swimming laps.

"For what?" you call out to them, the droplets on your skin already dried. 

"Wrestling!"

Oh.

Maya's clutched to Namjoon's back, ushering to come there as your throat goes dry. Jungkook awkwardly stands there, water reaching just around his hips as he avoids your gaze.

"I'm good!" you call to them, shaking your head as Maya frowns.

You don't want things to make it any more awkward but still. Something's holding you back and the thought of being close to Jungkook, even if it's in a completely innocent way, makes you want to stay here. Where it's safe. 

"Come on, it's gonna be fun! Ester can't play because she fears water!"

You know that. You glance at Ester who you've been sitting beside for the past twenty minutes. She shrugs apologetically, enjoying the sun instead as she flips through pages of a magazine that Maya brought. 

Looking at the couple again, not missing Jungkook either, you sigh and stand up. You ignore Maya's triumphal sounds as you make your way there. You have to try to make things better. 

"I'm not sure about this game, though." you mutter, half of your body already in the water as your eyes stay on Maya who gives you an encouraging smile. 

"I'll go easy on you." she teases, causing you to purse your lips. 

"I'm not a fan of water games in general. At least not this kind."

"You're no fun." she continues to tease, Namjoon grins in response. 

"Yeah, because getting pushed into water from someone's shoulders sounds like total fun." you mutter sarcastically.

Jungkook's lips twitch and he rubs his nose instead, trying to appear as if he's not present. Maya gets on Namjoon's shoulders, the two of them in their own loving episode for a moment as they giggle and talk. 

Turning to Jungkook, you clear your throat which makes him look at you. "I won't let you fall." he says, easing down your nerves.

He knows about your opinion of this without you even stating it. That alone makes your heart flutter. "You better not." you joke.

One corner of his lips lifts up in a poor attempt of a smile. The air is awkward but you visibly relax because it's not that bad at all. He turns around and lowers himself. Motioning you to get on his shoulders, you obey and touch his heated and wet skin. Ignoring the hard muscles, Jungkook helps you to lift yourself to his shoulders until you're sitting on him. You hesitate to touch him any further, but once he turns to Namjoon and Maya, you automatically panic and grab the top of his head. 

"This okay?" he asks silently, only for you to hear.

"Mhm."

No words are exchanged once again, the game officially starting. Jungkook stays true to his words. Whenever Maya takes her attack into action, Jungkook tries to dodge it by moving you and him. 

"Y/N, you gotta push me babe." Maya laughs.

"I don't like this game!" you complain. Second after, Maya goes to push you and you stumble, yelping and holding Jungkook for your dear life. 

The couple laughs.

Jungkook has a tight grip on your legs, securing you which makes you more confident. You still don't like this game. But when Maya starts her attack again, you grow annoyed and try to push her. She stumbles and Namjoon has a hard time staying balanced. Once they're balanced, Maya gasps and laughs at your attack. 

"What?" you grumble, "I can get competitive too." 

"That's not fair. You've got Jungkook on your team." Maya laughs through her complaint. 

"Hey!" Namjoon feigns offense. 

"You're great, baby, but look at Jungkook. They haven't stumbled, not even once." 

Namjoon shoots you an amused grin, shaking his head at his girlfriend as you start wrestling again. In the middle of it, your and Maya's girlie gasps, yelps and giggles resound around the lake. You both grow weak from all the laughter, both men urging one of you to win. The final blow happens when you're close to falling, Jungkook holding you tight and balancing you as he brings you closer to the couple. All you have to do is push some more as Maya stumbles and falls into the water. 

"Oh shit." you gasp, hands placed over top of Jungkook's head as Maya emerges from the water a second after. She's laughing which makes you sigh in relief. 

"That was so fun!" she says happily, kissing Namjoon as the couple gets into their own world again and you two end up staring at the couple making out right in front of you.

You clear your throat. Jungkook gets the hint and gets you off his shoulders, carefully and slowly until he makes sure you're okay. He's holding you until your feet touch the ground.

"Everything good?" he asks, which makes you nod at him.

"Yeah, thanks."

You both glance away just as Maya stops sucking off her boyfriend's face. "You guys. We were thinking about going on a short hike again. You wanna join?" 

"Yeah, I found this other trail and apparently there is some good view. It's like ten minutes from here." Namjoon joins.

"I--" You and Jungkook say at the same time. 

"Jimin, are you going with us too?" Namjoon asks approaching Jimin, his hair wet from the water too.

"Where?"

Namjoon explains his plan which makes Jimin shrug. "Yeah, sounds good. Are you guys going too?" he asks, eyes stopping at you and Jungkook. 

You're both quiet, none of you dare to say a word as Jimin raises his brow. His features turn stern, giving you a knowing look. 

"Yeah." You and Jungkook's voices collide but create the same answer. 

With Jimin tagging along, you do feel like being on a trip with a strict father who's silently watching your every move. It just might be your paranoia. The obvious distance between you and Jungkook seems to wordlessly prove his point. One game won't fix the issue. So won't a hike.

Jungkook keeps to himself for most part, saying short bits here and there. Maya walks ahead with Namjoon, the couple's hands locked together and surprisingly, Taehyung has decided to join at the last minute. You're happy about that though. Without him, you can't imagine what awkward silence there would be. Nor you or Jungkook talk much which is rare, something Jimin and Taehyung clearly notice but luckily decide not to comment. It's already awkward as it is.

You and Jimin somehow stay behind, walking slower than the rest as you see Jungkook taking pictures of Maya and Namjoon while Taehyung stands beside them, looking where he could possibly sit.

Looking at your friends, you feel Jimin's eyes on the side of your face which makes you silently chuckle. "Just say what you wanna say."

"Why do you think I wanna say something?" Jimin asks.

You give him a look which makes him chuckle softly. 

"I'm just checking on you. I don't think me telling you something is gonna fix things." Well, that's true. 

"I'm miserable, but I'm planning to fix it." you inform him instead.

He remains silent for a moment, maybe not quite sure what to say before he nods in understatement. 

"I talked to Taehyung." 

"What did he say this time?" you ask right away, no beating around the bush since you both know Taehyung very well. 

Jimin laughs silently, shaking his head. "He didn't tell me what you talked about." He clarifies which does make you slightly surprised. 

"Really?"

"Well I didn't exactly pry."

"We both know Tae doesn't need anyone to pry. He's gonna tell you stuff on his own." you joke, the two of you laughing at the honest description of Taehyung's personality. 

"Yeah, but he didn't this time." he assures you.

Taehyung possibly saying anything about your conversation to Jimin doesn't exactly affect you. You didn't tell him much details and even if you did, you don't mind. But it seems fair to talk to Jungkook first, explain your behavior to him first before you go around and talk about it to anyone else. Sure, Maya knows. But that's only because she figured it out on her own. That situation was different overall. 

"He just told me he talked to you. You seemed sad and I... I don't know. I'm sorry?" he questions, "I'm not sure what to say but I want you to know that you and Jungkook are gonna figure it out. Don't worry too much, okay?" he ends softly.

In the end, they all want what's best for you. And when they see one of you struggling, they are there for that person. 

"I know," you mutter just as softly, "Thanks."

As you join the others on top of the hill, Taehyung's in the middle of sentence when your sneakers slip against a bigger rock. You yelp, stumbling and ready for a fall before a hand clasps around your wrist and keeps you steady.

Mouth open and heart beating fast from the shock, you see a familiar set of eyes frowned in worry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You clear your throat, Jungkook's touch fading just as Taehyung's voice.

You ignore the little smirk Maya tries to hide, feigning innocence as Namjoon subtly pokes her side.

Once you come back to the camping site, not much has changed. Everyone seems to be enjoying their time here and for that, you're glad. Your unnecessary drama with Jungkook has caused enough trouble. One that you're the cause of. You're stupid for opening your mouth and letting jealousy get the worst of you. Sure, you've both fucked up eventually, but you realize your mistake here. To truly resolve this, you and Jungkook must talk. 

Jimin has –purposely or not – given you the little push you might've needed. Though you're very aware of his inner thoughts and opinions he might've not talked about this time, you know he was being a good friend. He's trying to turn you in the right direction. 

However, getting to the actual task is not as easy as it seems.

Everyone's having a good time, including Jungkook who's more talkative than yesterday. Trying to talk to him will just attract everyone's attention, so you stupidly retrieve every time you think it's the right time to just call out his name and let him know you want to talk. 

Argh!

You're mad at yourself for making this difficult. 

But as the night comes and drinking continues, the atmosphere is too good to potentially mess it up. Jungkook's flushed cheeks and big doe eyes tell you he's already tipsy. If you want to have a proper conversation, you want both of you to be sober. To be fair, you've had a fair share of beer as well and it's better to sort this out later. 

You're leaving tomorrow though. And that thought makes you upset with yourself even more. You've managed to be on this camping trip without properly talking. Not only that, but you also haven't sorted anything which naturally makes you frustrated. Because… What's the big deal? He's Jungkook. It has always been easy to talk to him. 

You're aware of the embarrassment still lingering deep within your chest. And fuck. You haven't even confessed what caused your reaction last week.

It's a stupid argument.

And you also don't want to spend the rest of this camping trip overthinking stuff, nor spend it regretting something that can't be changed. So you focus on the people around you. You laugh, talk and enjoy your last night here because your other friends are here too.

It comes to midnight, most of the guys already gone, barely able to keep their eyes open. Ester and Jin went to sleep and shortly after, Maya and Namjoon joined them. You're thinking of it too, your eyes start to feel heavy and the previous effect of alcohol starts to wear off. Well, you surely haven't gotten wasted, which can't be said about Jimin and Taehyung. The two men cling to each other like a loving couple as they whisper their appreciation for their youth (as they called it). 

While they reminisce about their old times, Hoseok is close to tripping while Yoongi laughs and makes no effort to actually help him, you notice Jungkook. He has detached from the camping fire and the group, moving closer to the tall trees as your brows furrow. Already on your feet, you distance yourself from the noise and make your way to him.

“Jungkook!”

His steps falter before he glances over his shoulder. You watch the subtle surprise on his face, based on the way his brows lift up, before you're met with a perfect sight of his rosy cheeks and the effect alcohol has left on him. 

“Where the hell are you going?”

He gives you a lazy smile, one you haven't realized you missed. In fact, you've missed any kind of smile of his. This trip has been crazy which is a shame because you really hoped this one would take the cake.

He shrugs and while you're completely oblivious to his sudden drunken idea, you join him before he could get out of your sight. Not that he was trying to but you wouldn't want to risk it. Not a single person back there seems to be capable of possibly searching for missing Jungkook. 

You catch him by his wrist, you don't allow him to walk any further. “You're drunk.” 

Once again met with that lazy smile of his, he remarks: “So are you.”

“I'm tipsy. Not as drunk as you anyway.” you correct, his lips pouting a little.

“You didn't talk to me.” he admits silently.

Features faltering, your fingers twitch around his wrist as you slowly let go. “I wanted to.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Because we all drank a lot, Kook. I would rather talk about this when we're both sober.”

It is true. Though you should've talked to him sooner. You shouldn't have waited until well, it's too late to talk tonight anyway. Jungkook has given you the space to come to him when you want to talk. It seems like he's been waiting for you to approach him this whole  time. You've failed to do that. 

“Kook,” he laughs silently, your lips twitching in a mere amusement when you notice his toothy (and drunk) grin. “I've missed that.”

You offer him a saddened smile with thousands of emotions behind it, though you remain silent because what's the point of talking about it now. “Come on. Let's go back and sleep it off.” 

You tug the sleeve of his oversized hoodie, motioning from where you came from. Luckily, he ends up following you instead of taking a spontaneous walk in the dark woods or whatever he had planned. 

You're both shocked to find the fire extinguished and seats empty as everyone has seemed to go to sleep. Sighing, Jungkook simply waves you a goodbye as he stumbles to his tent. You watch him, wondering whether you should help him or not but in the end, he seems to manage as he disappears inside his tent. Rubbing your forehead, you decide to not stay outside any longer. Everything does have a different vibe with no one outside.

Unzipping your tent, you expect Yoongi to be sprawled all over the place utmost. What you don't expect however, is Taehyung there with him as the two men messily lay there. It even makes you pull out your phone and turn on your flashlight to make sure you're seeing right. Taehyung's legs are spreaded and outstretched, his arm thrown over Yoongi's chest while your usually annoying co-worker is gone just as much.

“Fucking great.” you mutter, nudging Taehyung's foot with your own. 

His lack of response and ignorance (from his obvious intoxication) causes you to be harsher with your movements which eventually makes a set of drunken curses be spat out at you. Knowing there's no point of trying to get him out of there, you zip the tent back up. Rubbing your forehead and keeping the frustration to yourself, you glance at Jungkook's tent before a silent groan slips past your lips.

Fucking Taehyung. 

Unzipping Jungkook's tent, you get inside just as he is still awake and very much drunk as lifts his head up to check the intruder. “Who are you?”

Rolling your eyes, you respond. “It's me.”

Leaving your shoes outside, you quickly zip the tent back up to avoid any insects getting inside. “Taehyung somehow ended up taking up my tent. You don't mind if I stay here, right?”

You turn your screen on, lighting up the dark space to see where you can lay down. Jungkook's face is scrunched at the bright light as you apologize before quickly laying down at the space beside him.

“'M–don't mind.”

Chuckling, you make yourself more comfortable as you turn to face him. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you notice him laying on his back with hand over his chest.

“I should've talked to you today.” you mutter, wondering if he even hears you when you're met with silence.

But that doesn't last long when a silent sigh leaves him. “It's–mm–okay.”

“No, it's not. Look, I wasn't really acting right and I should've–”

“Let's talk about it tomorrow, m'okay?” he breathes out tiredly, turning onto his side as he faces you. “No fighting.”

You chuckle unsurely, embarrassed by your previous argument once again. That's until Jungkook pulls you closer to him, offering you his warmth which you gladly take. Scooting closer to him, face inches from his clothed chest and the familiar scent of him, he loudly sighs as a silence follows. 

That's until it's interrupted by incomprehensible slurs coming from Jungkook.

“What?” you ask, frowned while trying to understand him.

“'M sorry.” Is all he says before completely dozing off. 

As the birds start to chirp and the air gets a little too warm, you're shaken out of your sleep despite the sleepiness making you dizzy. In and out of your consciousness, going back to sleep is not something that comes easy. Especially when memories of yesterday night start to slowly click in once you crack your eyes open, finding yourself in a different tent. 

Soon, with your conscience more present, you realize the warm air is not the only thing that keeps you warm. You've managed to get out of the sleeping bag, probably when sunrise has hit the sky and it started to get a little too unbearable in this tent. However your back feels like it's burning. With your legs intertwined with – what you soon realize – Jungkook's, his arm draped over your waist and chest pressed against your very much burning back. 

To find yourself in this position again causes you to be unsure of how to react. You hate how comforting it feels like, especially after everything you both have been through. There's still a lot to talk about, something you should most likely do before this trip comes to an end. However, you still wish to stay in this position a little longer. Perhaps acting like nothing's wrong for a while won't hurt anybody. 

Jungkook's body temperature does make you shift, your bodies rubbing as you finally notice the undoubted erection he's sporting in his shorts. That alone causes your pulse to quicken up, heat spreading all over your face as if you were the one with obvious erection. While aware that this is something he can't always control, it does feel slightly superior to experience this again. The close and intimate position causes you to feel more than it normally would. His cock is nestled between your asscheeks and you have no idea what to do with this information. 

While you're trying to keep your cool about it (and dissuade yourself from acting upon your secret sexual wishes), Jungkook is bound to wake up by the little shift you make when you start feeling the first traces of sweat. Still, when he shifts in his spot you tense up. 

"Ignore it." he says simply and completely groggily, proving he has just woken up. 

There's a couple of things you could do right now. But you should also be more logical than you've been over the past week or so. That's why you ignore any devilish scenarios there could potentially happen, obeying his first morning words. 

Jungkook unwraps his body from yours, turning onto his back with a soft groan. Stretching his limbs, he sits up with messy hair while shooting you a sideways glance. Turning on your back and exposing your face to him, you both share a glance of pure nothing. You two just have a quick look at each other before Jungkook rubs his face while yawning. 

"Is anyone awake?" he asks.

Shrugging, you answer. "I don't know, I just woke up." 

"Right." he nods. 

Why is everything suddenly so awkward? 

"Well, I'm gonna make myself something to eat. You want something too?" he asks while gathering his shirt nearby, covering his torso with it. 

When you don't answer, he glances back at you which shakes you out of your trance. "Ah, maybe? I don't know what's left." 

"I'll go check." 

And he's out of the tent, leaving you alone with not only messy hair but messy mind as well. Deciding not to lay there long enough for you to overthink everything from the start, you put your slides on and join Jungkook outside. You find him rummaging through a few packages of snacks that have been left on the outside table, scratching the back of his head. 

He heard you walking toward him, shooting you a short glance. "There's nothing much left. I guess the rest of the food is in the caravan." 

As Jungkook is ready to go there, you tug onto his hoodie to stop him. "You're gonna wake them." 

Everyone seems to be still asleep. You have no idea what time it is, but it's definitely too early for you two to be awake too. Especially when you went to sleep last. You could definitely use more sleep but that's not currently possible. Your mind is whirling with never-ending thoughts, so there's no point in attempting to fall back to sleep. 

"So? I'm not gonna stay hungry." Jungkook pouts, clearly not liking the thought of not eating his precious breakfast which let alone makes you chuckle because you're very aware of his disappointment. 

"I'm not sure if there's much left anyway." 

Seokjin did mention something about possibly running out of food yesterday, but no one really bothered to sort it out right then. It was too late anyway and everyone started drinking. 

"Maybe we should go and buy something." you propose, avoiding Jungkook's pair of eyes on you as you busy yourself while looking around. 

Things are still tense, at least too tense for you two, and just because you talked a little yesterday and today too doesn't mean everything is alright. Though you at least communicate with each other, woke up in a close proximity fully cuddling each other. 

"Alright," he sighs in the end. "Let me just go wash my face and brush my teeth."

"Yeah, I gotta do that too." you murmur before both of you get ready. 

While you do your morning routine and share a bottle of water to wash your face and rinse your mouth, there are no words spoken or even uttered. You both change to more clean and suitable clothes. Jungkook has abandoned his hoodie and is wearing his casual oversized black shirt with a pair of new shorts. You've decided to wear one of your summer dresses. It's not like there will be any opportunity to wear it on this trip since you haven't gone to the town yet. 

Being back in Jungkook's car brings you a weird sense of nostalgia though that's definitely a bit dramatic. You've been fighting for a week, in any case, it shouldn't be that serious at all. Is it weird to say you're glad to be here? 

You and him are in the car together, listening to some music like any other times you've gone on a ride together. Pretty sure both of you can sense how there's this odd tension between you two, you both ignore it and go to the nearest convenience store. Once you're done, you find a hot-dog stand and decide to have your breakfast there. Jungkook pays, ignoring your useless attempt of pulling out your wallet which leaves you to mumble an appreciative thanks . He waves you off, silently telling you not to mention it. 

When you get back, everyone's still sleeping. Jungkook sets the grocery bag onto the table when you approach him, nervously and unsure as you mutter his name. 

"Hm?" 

"Can we talk?" you ask, his movements pausing as he sets the bottle of coke down. 

You both know what that means. 

"Sure. Here?" he questions. 

"Let's take a walk." you offer, causing him to nod as he follows you. 

You decide to take a walk to the lake, knowing there's a short bridge where you can comfortably sit and talk in a peaceful and quiet surrounding with no interruptions. As you sit down on the hardwood, Jungkook joins you as you both take the time staring ahead and breathing in the summery air. Fiddling with your fingers in your lap, you steal a glance at Jungkook who catches you almost immediately. It leaves your cheeks warm as you let out a chuckle, the amusement dancing on his face. 

"I don't know how to start," you admit truthfully. "But I know I should explain myself, I should have from the start actually... but never mind. I should explain why I acted that way at Tae's place." 

"We both let things get out of hand." he mutters and you nod.

"Yes, but I started it. Which makes me embarrassed that I let myself act like that in front of not just you, but Jimin and Taehyung as well." 

"Why did you then?" 

"Because I was jealous of Ester." you let out the painfully awkward words out. 

But for the first time since the argument, you feel the weight on your chest slowly dropping. 

Jungkook snaps his eyes toward you, looking shocked and confused as ever. "Jealous? What? Why?" 

"It's stupid," you chuckle nervously. "I never had to share you with any other girl. I mean—like a friend. You never brought any girl into our group and I guess I felt threatened in a way. I know it sounds stupid and I swear I'm not possessive or anything like that! Ester is actually nice and I felt like a total bitch the entire time here, even before we came here." 

"It never crossed my mind this could be the case. I'm sorry." Jungkook mumbles slowly, still gathering his thoughts. 

"Kook, I'm the one who's sorry. I overreacted. I should've talked to you sooner or explained myself right there at Tae's. But I decided to be stubborn and childish, I wasn't truthful because I didn't want to admit out loud that I was just jealous." 

"I gotta admit I was pretty clueless back then. I didn't know why you were suddenly so against Ester. It just—it got out of hand, I guess we both can agree with that," You nod. "I didn't act right too. I shouldn't have said some of the things I did." 

"We both shouldn't have," you add. "And it did hurt hearing you comparing me to her. That made me even more upset, which only escalated." 

"I—" He stops himself, sighing as he closes his eyes almost painfully. "That came out wrong. I wasn't trying to compare you two. What I meant by that was just... I couldn't understand why you got so hostile about her going and I thought you would understand that since you were in her position too. You know how hard it can be making friends. Which doesn't excuse any of my reactions, I'm just trying to explain myself too." 

"No, I know. It feels nice to finally talk about this openly," you assure him. "And I admit my mistake here too. I was acting like that because I was jealous." 

"There's no need for you to be jealous, Y/N." Jungkook assures you, softly and with a pinch of lightness to his voice which both makes you chuckle gently and silently.

"And then you assumed the whole tent situation and I just bursted. I was sensitive because of my emotions." 

"I'm sorry. I clearly wouldn't assume you share it with her if you didn't want to. It was a mere idea." he mumbles. 

"I know. In other cases I would be completely fine with it. But I wasn't because..." 

"Because you got jealous." he finishes for you, things starting to make more sense to him. 

"... yeah." 

"I meant it. Ester is my friend but she's never going to replace what you and me have. I'm serious." 

You find Jungkook staring right back at you, making sure you see how serious he is about that and it does offer you everything you've needed. Assurance. 

"I'm sorry, Kook. I really am. It all got messy and if I knew my reaction would end up with us fighting, I would keep my mouth shut. I even invited Yoongi for fuck sake!" you exclaim, Jungkook snickering under his breath. 

"Yeah, you totally did that just to piss me off." 

You offer him a weak attempt of a sheepish smile. It's all good though, it causes him to laugh because he knows . 

"I'm sorry too, if I hurt you. I want you to know I never meant it the way you took it. It wasn't right for me to say some of the things too. I got frustrated and annoyed. I also want you to know that I get hurt and upset too." he admits silently, almost as if he's scared to say it out loud. 

It causes your features to twist into sadness and empathy as you nod. 

"I'm nowhere near perfect. I fuck up too." he adds. 

"We both fucked up. But I guess I'm the bigger culprit in this." You try to joke, but Jungkook only glances at you with a soft gaze. 

"We were both stupid and petty. There's no need to point fingers at who was worse. Let's just leave it at that." 

You stay in silence, hearing the birds flying here and there as they chirp in the background. For a moment, you feel like you can't think. There are no thoughts in your mind, yet it feels like your head is suddenly going to burst with them. 

Feeling overwhelmed is an understatement in this situation and before you know it, your eyes sting and water. Sniffling silently, you catch Jungkook's attention and you know there's no point in hiding it anymore. 

"It just got all so messy!" you cry out, Jungkook's mouth opening and features twisting in sadness. 

"Come here," He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side as he hugs you. "We are both idiots. But we talked about it and apologized. So no crying, hm?" he offers, gently pressing a kiss on top of your head. 

You chuckle through your tears, giving him a weak nod. "I just can't believe we took it this far." 

Jungkook hums, keeping you close to him. 

"I don't want to lose you, Kook." 

"You're not going to lose me, silly." 

"But we never argued like this!" 

"You also never got jealous before. We never had any other female friends around." he says lightly, trying to assure you that it's alright because you do need that assurance. 

"It's your fault." you click your tongue, poking his side as he lets out a dramatic gasp. 

"My fault?" 

"Yes, I told you I'm not allowing any girls in our group." you joke, giving him a look which causes him to laugh.

He throws his head back before he stares for a little longer, laughter slowly dying down as he gently pokes your cheek. "You were also wasted at that time. I didn't think you would take it this seriously." 

"It's fine," you assure him. "It was stupid of me to get this jealous." 

"Well, I can assure you that there's no other Y/N, alright?" he teases, nudging your side as you feel your cheeks heaten up once again, a shy smile crossing on your lips.

You have to be honest. It feels fucking great to hear him say that. This way it feels like him having any other possible female friends is no big deal. You've always known what you and Jungkook have is special. You've had that since you met him and her closer. It was dumb of you to question that but well, jealousy is a disease. It's a vile emotion. 

The silence follows shortly after, the memories coming back to you as you let out a sigh. "We fought like petty kids. But you know what actually made me upset? The first night here. In the woods." 

Jungkook looks at you, giving you all the attention as you take the cue to continue. 

"I wasn't upset with you. I was upset with myself for letting our friendship get to this point. Since when do we solve our problems by fucking through them?" 

Jungkook opens his mouth, though no response comes out of it. 

"I don't regret it. I think we acted upon our frustration and damn, we had lots of it." 

"We sure had. The sex was good though." 

You snicker, nudging him this time as he laughs. "It was. But once it was over, I got this anger at myself. I thought 'what did we do with our friendship?'. But thinking of it now, a part of me is like, but what's the big deal? I don't know if I make any sense right now."

"No, you do. I mean... I knew you were mad, I didn't know why exactly but when you said something like this didn't happen, I knew you're upset." 

"I agreed to that sex, Kook. I wanted it." You make sure he knows that. You don't see inside his head, but you need to know that there's not an ounce of regret of what happened in those woods. For a moment it was thrilling and the only thing you felt like you needed. You're upset because you felt that way. Not because it happened. 

"It got all too much for me. From the argument a week ago to the point where we couldn't stand each other. I just asked myself what we have become?" 

Jungkook hums in acknowledgment. 

"Maybe we should take a break?" you ask. 

You've never thought of it earlier on. Damn, you're not even sure how this came out all of a sudden. Just a sudden idea that currently makes sense. Though, you're not sure about it completely, talking to Jungkook about it seems like the first step. 

"A break?" 

"From the sex. Learn how to be best friends again." 

"Weren't we best friends all this time?" he chuckles. 

You know what he means. Regardless of your intimate life together, outside of it you were still the same. Perhaps you're just overreacting and are still upset over how you dealt with things instead. Actually, you're sure that's why. But maybe this could be beneficial for you two. 

So you tell him exactly that, met with a moment of silence before he breaks it. 

"I'm not sure what to say. I don't wanna say anything to disregard you. If this is what you want or think is right, I'm up for it." 

"You don't think a break could be... good?" 

"I mean, we don't know unless we try." he shrugs. "I told you whenever you want to end this, we can. You're in control of this too." 

"I don't regret having sex with you, Kook." 

He chuckles but once he sees your raised brow, he clears his throat and rubs the tip of his nose gently. "I know you don't. I wasn't thinking of that at all." 

"I just want you to know." 

"I know, don't worry." he smiles. 

"So, it's all behind us?" 

"Of course. Fighting with you fucks me up more than you think." he laughs as you join. 

"God, everyone witnessed our bickering and childish behavior." you whine, hiding your face in your hands as Jungkook rubs your back before he retrieves his hand. 

"Fuck them. Who cares?" 

"I do," you whine. "That shit was embarrassing. So embarrassing that I even apologized to Yoongi the other day. He was trying to console me but he's pretty shit at it." 

Jungkook only snickers. 

"That's when you came in. It wasn't what—"

"You don't owe me any explanation, okay?" he says gently, brushing a strand of hair off your face. 

"And he actually fingered me when we—I lied." 

Jungkook chokes on his spit, coughing. "What?" 

"I mean—I lied but didn't realize it. I was so out of it that I couldn't remember properly. It wasn't my fault, it was yours actually." 

"My fault?" Jungkook laughs, amused. 

"Mhm." You don't tell him that his sex capability literally makes you lose your mind sometimes. "I just had to set the record straight."

"Well, thanks for letting me know your co-worker fingered you as well. Thanks for the kindness." he mutters under his breath, shooting you a grin when you slap his thigh. 

"We're good?" 

"We're good, stupid." he laughs, hugging you to him as you hug him back. 

Burrowing your head in his chest, you smile for the first time in a long time. Genuinely. 

"You guys made up?!" 

You slowly pull off from each other, looking behind you to find shirtless Taehyung, very much awake and not hungover like you would've expected him to. He's got experience, you guess. 

"Finally!" 

He claps loudly, catching the attention of others as you slowly make them come closer to Taehyung. Jimin frowns, asking something as Taehyung responds. Jimin shoots you a thumbs up. 

"Now fuck each other's brain out!" 

Looking at each other with Jungkook, you both burst into laughter. 

"I'm gonna kill him." 

You hope not everyone has heard that but luckily, there's only Jimin next to him who slaps his back which causes Taehyung to completely ignore him as he shoots you a boyish grin, not forgetting to wiggle his brows at you. 

"Yup. Me too." Jungkook says, standing up as he offers his hand to help you stand up. 

You gladly take it, the two of you smiling at each other before you join the others.

[siriusly-yoongi]

She wants to be saved chapter 9

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

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Pairing: alpha BTS × omega reader

Chapter Warnings: I don't really know what to put for warnings, bad writing, mute reader, POV changes, talks of kidnapping? Kind of?, mentions of sexual assault with multiple objects (vague description) , torture (i think), bad eating habits, minor mention of self-harm

Word count: 3732

I've been posting 1 chapter everyday, and I'm going to continue to try to keep that pace, however its not easy so I might have to cut back a little. I've had a lot of free time this past week to write pretty much all day, but some days I'm not free to right all day and I find myself panicking to try and get a chapter out and then I don't like how the chapter turns out and its just a lot of stress on me.

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YOONGI

Namjoon and I take her upstairs. She was the most comfortable with me before everything happened, so he wants me to be there right now.

We go into her room and Namjoon sits on the floor while I sit on the edge of her bed, after getting a nod that it was okay from her.

"Can you pull up your shirt for me, baby? I wanna see if you're hurt anywhere else." Namjoon keeps his voice soft, but I can hear that he's angry underneath it.

She hesitates for a few seconds, but she seems too afraid to say no. I hate that all the progress we've made has been undone. We we're doing so well.

She pulls up her shirt and we both gasp. Her stomach is all bruised she she has shallow slash wounds in the middle. She turns around and there are more marks on her back, like she was hit with something long and thin. She lets her shirt fall back down

Namjoon takes a shaky breath "your pants, please"

She whimpers, but tugs off her pants, covering her face. I feel my blood boil as I see the blood running down her inner thighs. Its just a few small drips but we both know what it means. And its not period blood. Period blood had a distinct scent to it. There are hand shaped bruises just below her knees and one on her ankle. There are more of those lash marks on her legs as well.

Something I didn't notice till now is that her hair is wet, it seems mostly dried but its definitely wet. I was too busy looking at her injuries to notice before.

All I know is that I want to kill Hoseok. He let this happen to her.

"Why don't you take a bath or a shower for now and we can talk about what happened in the morning. Okay?" Namjoon proposes

She shakes her head rapidly, her breathing turning ragged.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to baby i just thought you'd feel better after you're all cleaned up. None of your wounds look like they need medical attention so we can address them properly tomorrow. Does that sound like a better plan?"

She nods.

"Did you want to sleep in my room?" I ask, looking at her.

She slowly nods again, I smile. "Do you want me in the room with you?"

She thinks for a minute, then nods once more.

Namjoon and I leave the room to give her privacy to change and clean herself up a little bit.

I'm laying down in bed when she comes into my room, bringing her blue blanket with her. I expected her to go back into the corner, but to my pleasant surprise she actually climbs into bed with me. She lays on the opposite side of the bed though, keeping distance between us. After a few minutes she reaches out with a shaky hand and grabs my hand, interlocking her fingers with mine. Maybe we haven't lost all of our progress. Just some of it.

Hoseok said I was a burden to you guys and I was tearing the pack apart. He said the only reason you guys liked me is because I'm an omega, and alphas instinctively want an omega to look after. He said if we weren't mates or if I wasn't an omega you guys wouldn't want me around. That you only care because of the bond. Then he said if I continue to talk to you guys or interact with anyone that he'd bring me to the park and send me away with a group of guys. I talked to Jungkook yesterday. I wouldn't have gotten hurt it I had just listened to him. And I'm tearing the pack apart even more because me getting hurt made you guys more upset with him

I listen to her phone speak in an unnatural sounding voice, my anger growing toward Hobi.

"Omega, you listen to me, right now. You are not at fault for this. In any way, shape, or form. You didn't deserve this, you didn't provoke him, you didn't do anything. You are not a burden on us and the bond doesn't make us care for you. The bond cannot force feelings, it can encourage them, but it cannot force them. We want you around. And you have every right to interact with us. I consider you pack, even if its not official yet."

She shrugs, closing her eyes.

Once she's asleep, I text Namjoon what she just told me, knowing he's probably going crazy trying to figure out what happened.

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The next morning, she's moved closer to me, just close enough that she can pull my hand to the middle of her chest, her fingers still laced with mine.

I smile and roll onto my back, picking up my phone and scrolling through it until she wakes up.

It takes about an hour for her to wake up. She lets go of my hand and rubs her eyes.

"Good morning kitten" I smile, she just grunts at me, clearly not happy to be awake.

She goes to get up and winces, I frown. She grabs her blanket and gets out of bed, turning back to look at me expectantly.

I get up and follow her out of my room and into the living room. Namjoon is already up, sitting on the couch watching the morning news. I sit next to Joon and lean into his side, he puts his arm around my shoulders. She sits on the other couch, curling up.

"Can you tell us what happened last night, baby" Namjoon breaks the silence. She sighs and starts typing on her phone. It takes her a while to type everything out, Jin even joined us in the living room, before she presses play.

I was in my room and I didn't have my door locked, Hoseok came in and grabbed my arm. He dragged me out of the house and made me walk to the park without even letting me put my shoes on first. He let go of me once we got there and he started walking away. I tried to follow him but before I could catch up to him somebody grabbed me from behind and put their hand over my mouth. They shoved me in the back of a car and drove me to some house. They brought be inside and they started yelling at me and threatening to mark me. One of them used their alpha voice to make me take off all my clothes and then they just started attacking me. They were hitting me and screaming at me and they did this for a while before I think they got bored and one of them picked up an extension cord and started whipping me with it. He started on my legs but then one of them flipped me over and started hitting my back and my ass while they all laughed. They got bored of that too and flipped me back over and made me lay on all the welts they just caused, which really hurt. One of them pulled out a pocket knife and started cutting my stomach, but he only did it a few times before one of the other alphas stopped him.

All 3 of out scents turn angry, hers is still very faint, like she's on the edge of another drop but not quite there yet. She goes back to typing. She's shaking slightly, so while I want to push for a more detailed version of events, I don't. Not wanting to upset her further. After a few minutes her phone continues.

They dragged me to the bathroom and put me in the bathtub and turned the water on really hot. They filled the tub up then one of them would hold me underwater until I almost drowned then pull be back up at the last second. They did it over and over until the water went cold. The dragged me back into the living room and made me lay on the floor where they took turns putting different objects inside of me. They all laughed and yelled at me the whole time. I don't know what all they used, I just know none of them put their dick inside of me so I'm grateful for that at least. One of them bit my chest but it didn't break the skin. I have a bite mark on my boob though. The entire time they were saying mean things to me and yelling at me. Then they abruptly stopped, made me get dressed, and brought me back to the park where Hoseok was just sitting on his phone. They shoved me out of the car and left. That's a quick rundown of what happened i guess. I don't want to go into more details please.

By the time her phone finishes reading her text, everyone, including Hoseok, had come into the living room. Everyone was angry. Even Hoseok seemed upset with what he'd just heard. I know he didn't mean for it to go this far, I believe him when he said that he only wanted them to scare her. But he still put her in danger, and that's what got her hurt.

"Those fuckers need to be arrested" Jin grumbles through gritted teeth. She shakes her head

I don't want to relive it in court, just drop it. Please

After a few seconds I think it finally clicks for everyone what they just heard and everyone starts yelling at each other. The house full of angry scents, thick and suffocating.

Jimin lunges at Hoseok, landing a few good punches before Jin and Namjoon manage to pull them apart. Hobi's nose is bleeding and his cheek is already starting to bruise.

Once everyone calms down, I notice the omega is gone. I quickly check her room and she's not there. I check my room next, she's not there either. I do notice the downstairs bathroom door is closed so I knock

"Kitten?"

I get a quiet whisper in response.

"Can you open the door for me jagi? We're done yelling. I'm sorry we scared you." I speak softly, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible.

To my surprise she opens the door. She looks up at me and pupils are huge, soft look on her face. Omegaspace.

Omegaspace is a much simpler headspace that an omega can fall into. They wont process anything beyond simple instructions and conversation. It stops the omega from being stressed by making them not worry about anything. Its a very vulnerable headspace and it makes them very easy to take advantage of. They typically follow alphas blindly, and they're very trusting. It can be triggered by both negative and positive things. It can happen when an omega trusts you and feels safe enough to let go and just relax. it can be triggered by extreme stress as a way to avoid dropping. Or some omegas can go into it willingly when an alpha asks for it.

I think its safe to say in this case, it was stress.

"Come here, kitten." I hold my hand out to her and she runs over, grabbing my hand, chirping at me softly. I want to smile, but knowing that she's like this because she's so stressed makes me unable to. At least she didn't drop again.

I lead her out into the living room and she happily follows along. As soon as Namjoon sees her he sighs, I can tell he feels guilty, even though we were all yelling.

She sticks close to my side for the next couple hours until she comes out of it. We could easily force her to eat or tell us more about what happened but it doesn't sit right with us to do something like that when she's in such a state.

Once she starts to come out of it her pupils go back to normal and she looks exhausted. She moves from her spot close to me and sits further away, yawning.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

JIN

We decided to go to a popular Ramen restaurant for dinner tonight. I didn't feel like cooking tonight and neither did Yoongi. Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Y/n went in one car, while Hoseok, Taehyung, Jungkook, and I went in another.

When we get there, we all sit down. Y/n sat next to Yoongi of course, with Jimin on her other side. I sat between Namjoon and Hoseok, Jungkook is on the end next to Hobi and Tae is next to Jimin.

Multiple people stated at y/n's bruises, and while some seemed genuinely concerned, most of them seemed to be snickering and making jokes about it. She notices and keeps her head down, looking at her phone underneath the table.

We all order, except for y/n. I expected Namjoon to order something for her, but he doesn't. I give him a confused look and he just shakes his head

"She doesn't need the added stress tonight, she's already struggling to just be here and be surrounded by so many scents. Plus with all the stress of today, I don't think pushing her tonight is a good idea. I don't know how close to is to dropping and I don't want to add the straw that breaks the camels back. I'm gonna try and get her to share with us, maybe take a few bites but beyond that I'm not gonna push right now" Namjoon whispers to me and I nod.

We all get our food after a short wait and before Namjoon can say anything to her, Jungkook already beat him to it.

"Here pup, try some. Its really good" He smiles, leaning across the table and holding his chopsticks out to her, his hand underneath so it doesn't make a mess.

She hesitates for a few seconds before slowly leaning forward and accepting his offering. Her eyes seem to light up and she smiles, nodding. She likes it.

"Do you want some more?" Jungkook offers, she quickly shakes her head.

After a few minutes she tries a bite of Yoongi's, then some of Namjoon's.

Toward the end of dinner i notice her looking around the place and her eyes stop on a man and a woman sitting across the room. She goes still and her eyes go wide.

"What is is lovey?" I ask softly, she pulls out her phone

That's my sister and my brother

I look over at them then back to her. I don't know if this is a good or a bad thing so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to react. Everyone else shares the same look. Besides Hobi who seems uninterested. Taehyung also doesn't seem to know how to respond, he's been warming up to her a little bit I think, even if he wont admit to it.

My instincts have been driving me up the wall lately because I haven't been able to provide and care for her since she wont let me close and she hasn't been eating. Then she got hurt and that sent all of our instincts haywire. We've all been on edge since last night, even more so since this morning when we found out what happened.

Yoongi is the only one who's semi stable right now since he was able to sleep next to her and she held his hand for a few hours while she was in omegaspace.

"Are we happy about this?" Jimin questions. She just continues to stare.

After a few seconds, the woman notices her staring and smiles. She gets up and walks over to our table, her brother following close behind. The woman walks up behind y/n and puts her hands of her shoulders. Y/n tenses up. I'm going with we aren't happy.

"Y/n who are these lovely people? Why don't you introduce me to them? Are they single?" She whispers the last part, clearly intending for only y/n to hear. We all hear her though.

"We're her mates. And no we aren't single." Jungkook flashes a obviously fake smile towards the woman.

Something that resembles jealousy and anger flashes across the woman's face.

"Well I'm Hana, Y/n's older sister." The Beta forces a smile, putting her arms around Taehyung's neck from behind. "You know, I think you guys would benefit much more by having a beta in your pack over an omega. Don't you think?" She leans forward, practically resting her boobs on Tae's shoulder.

There it is. I bet this girl has never been told no in her life. Taehyung pushes her away "Keep your tits to yourself, woman" he mutters, clearly unamused.

Jungkook snickers, covering his mouth. This seems to piss Hana off. She looks over at the man standing next to her with a pout on her lips.

"I'm Minjae, their older brother" the alpha half smiles, clearly not wanting to be here right now.

"Are you sure you're mates? Maybe you guys just think you feel a bond with her. There's no way 7 gorgeous men are mated with someone as.. unique.. looking as her" Hana smiles again.

Her words only manage to piss me off, but I try and remain polite "I assure you, we're mates"

"I'm so sorry. I know you must feel like you have to accept her just because you're mates. But we as her family wont hold it against you if you decide you don't want her."

Who the fuck does this woman think she is. She reaches down and grabs Jimin's phone off the table, holding it in front of him to unlock it then she takes it and presumably adds her number. "Here, I know you don't wanna say it in front of her, but I know you'd much rather be with me. Plus I'm much better in bed" she says this with a proud smile

Y/n makes a face, Jungkook and Jimin growl.

Jimin snatches his phone back and turns to Hana "look, we're not interested. We're very happy with y/n and we'd appreciate it if you'd stop talking so negatively about our mate"

Hana grumbles and grabs y/n by the shoulders, squeezing over her bruises and making her wince "how much are you paying these boys to keep you around? You're an omega, there's no way a group of alphas are interested!"

My heart sinks as I realize she's been treated poorly her whole life because of her subgender. What Hobi and Tae are doing isn't new to her and that makes it ten times worse.

Minjae pulls Hana away from y/n "come on Hana, if they're willing to settle for her then you aren't worth their time"

Hana storms off back to their table. Minjae turns back to y/n and pulls out his phone, showing her something. Yoongi tries to lean over and see but Minjae blocks his view. Her eyes fill with tears and she grabs Yoongi's wrist, squeezing so hard her knuckles turn white.

"That's what happens to omegas that ruin our pure bloodline. You were the first omega born into our family. And Nari was the second. Dad said if he finds you again, you'll join her" He says this quietly, forgetting he's surrounded by a group of alphas who can all hear him anyway.

Minjae then walks off back to their table.

Y/n doesn't let go of Yoongi. She doesn't cry, but she does have tears in her eyes that she rapidly blinks away.

"What did he show you?" I ask, curious as to what could be so upsetting

She just shakes her head.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

When we get home she goes upstairs and soon after we hear the shower start.

The rest of us cuddle up in the living room and put on a movie, we asked if she wanted to join us on the way home and she said no. Hoseok is sitting off by himself because everyone is mad at him still. Namjoon is cuddled up with me, Taehyung an Jimin are curled up together as per usual, and Jungkook has his head in Yoongi's lap.

A few minutes into she movie we all look up at the same time, catching the same scent. Blood.

"Shit..." Namjoon curses, Jimin is already halfway upstairs

"Doll, open the door" I hear him from upstairs.

It's silent for a minute and sound of the water stops. I get up and head upstairs, watching from the top of the stairs. She's wrapped in a towel, standing awkwardly in the bathroom while Jimin is in the doorway.

"Get dressed and then you need go show me" Jimin turns around and I look away.

After a few seconds she has her phone speak

Okay

I look up and Jimin turns back around. "Let me see now babydoll"

She whines, but lifts her shirt. She made the cuts from when she was attacked deeper. Jimin looks them over and decides she doesn't need stitches this time.

"You need to find healthier ways to cope lovey" I walk over and look her in the eyes, she immediately looks down.

Jimin and I give her some space, going back downstairs. She stays up in her room for a while while we all watch a few movies. Around 1 in the morning she comes downstairs and stands there with the saddest expression on her face. I Nudge Namjoon and he looks over, his expression falling.

She stands there for a solid 20 minutes before walking over to Yoongi and whining loudly at him. It gathers everyone's attention though and she quickly ducks down behind the couch, not liking the attention.

Yoongi chuckles softly, seeming to know exactly what the problem is "Kitten, I'm watching a movie, I'm not coming to bed right now. You're welcome to come sit with me."

She lets out a sharp whine, the kind you hear from a bratty child throwing a fit, her eyes narrowed

"Jagi.." Yoongi sighs "come here"

She walks over and grabs Yoongi's hand, trying to pull him up, keening and whining at him.

A lot of omegas get fussy if their pack isn't in the nest at night once they're ready for bed. I smile, one because it's the cutest thing I think I've ever seen, and two I think this means she sees Yoongi as pack.

[andy-wm]

Politics and the REAL People's Power

The second impeachment vote just passed through the Korean parliament and Yoon is out. His anti-feminism and anti social progress stance never served the greater good and I'm so glad to see that he has been sent packing.

Besides all the other damage he did, his outright disdain for sexual minorities in Korea meant that funding to support groups was slashed and inclusion programs were cancelled.

It's heartwarming to see a lot of queer representation in the crowds of protesters. Brave people standing proud with their flags makes me cheer.

I truly hope the next administration repairs the damage 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Considering that flags and banners were banned at protests in 2014, this is fabulous

Photos from https://x.com/jackwgreenberg/status/1867837642848842128?t=UUuwhxUIbXaT033ze3BM_A&s=19

eta:

It's pretty much unheard-of for idols to comment on politics, they're strongly pressured to remain impartial. But IU has been funding meals for protesters. I love this so much.

Before anyone questions BTS's lack of comment or involvement.... if any of them were to get involved, as serving members of the military they would be in huge trouble. You know what would happen? The military police would arrest them. That means Tae would possibly be sent to throw Namjoon in jail.

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (11/?)

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,

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 4.3k

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: lol hello hi, being an an adult and a social adult is hard. I've had this written since June, but never got the time to edit it. Until now, I hope you enjoy it.xx

Thanks to those who have stuck around it means a lot!

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Present: 

“I don’t get it?” Casey Han, the newly hired intern in the Writing and Rhetoric Department voices as she leans back in your office lounge chairs. Every Tuesday she comes into your office at four so you can help her review her Master Thesis on Language and Dialects in Different Regions. 

She also uses this as an opportunity to fill you in on the rumors floating around the office, pry you for juicy deets about yours and Namjoons relationship, or thirst over your best friend slash soon to be brother-in-law aka Jeon Jungkook. 

It used to bother you at first, but over the last two months you have grown fond of the graduate student. She has a great sense of humor, knows all the juicy gossip, and mainly buys you an iced americano every Wednesday and Friday morning. 

“What don’t you get Cas?” You stand up from your desk chair, walk to the other lounge chair and sit down. By now, all thesis editing, review, or proof-reading has ended. You get off work in five minutes and you have to wait for Namjoon to finish grading his final papers. A task you finished three days ago. 

“Your fiance is the hottest guy in this building and you’re always holed up in your office. If I was in your shoes I’d never keep my hands off him.” She shrugs, leaning her elbow against the arm rest and resting her chin over the palm of her hands. 

You laugh, shaking your head. If things were different and you didn’t know Casey the way you did, you’d surely be suspecting her of hinting at something else. But you have nothing to worry about with Casey. Her eyes are reserved for Jungkook or Leonardo “Dilf” DiCaprio. Her words not yours.

“I mean we’re together all the time. I think keeping our space at work is just our way of staying professional and it gives us something to talk about at the end of the day.” You shrug, chucking off your heels and crossing your legs underneath you. 

“You’re stronger than me.” She smiles, shaking her head. “But it's cute. One can only dream of having a relationship like yours.”

“Believe me it took a while to get here.” You brush her off. It did. After coming clean to each other, things didn’t automatically become all sunshine and rainbows. There were constant petty arguments about who takes the trash out? Who does the dishes? You vaguely remember getting annoyed with Namjoon because he couldn’t use a knife if his life depended on it. But the two of you decided that if you wanted your relationship to work, couples therapy was the best option. 

So, every Monday at five the two of you see Dr. Heras. It’s helped with talking to each other, and getting to know each other's triggers and how to handle them. The two of you have household assigned chores to each other, but if the other forgets the other has to step up. Nightly recaps are a must, which makes bedtime exciting for the two of you. It’s the main reason the two of you don’t meet up throughout the day until it's time to go home. Things still aren’t perfect but they’re getting better day by day.

Casey claps her hands together, bringing you out of your bubble. Her face is bright like she just remembered something and it excites you. “When is your dress fitting?” 

The brief excitement escapes you when you remember how much you’re not looking forward to it. Not because you don’t want to see your mother and Namjoon’s mother. It’s because you don’t like any of the dresses on the online catalog of Hyugas Bridal. 

“Saturday.” You say, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top of them. You’ve tried everything to convince yourself to be as excited as possible. It is your wedding dress fitting after all. A moment every little girl dreams about. A moment you have always dreamed about, but you can’t shake that there’s something holding you back from feeling exciting. 

No, you know exactly why you’re not looking forward to it. The reason starts with Jung and ends with Hoseok. 

He’s been in the back of your mind for the past week. Since the day the mothers have made a groupchat to decide the dress fitting date. At first you thought it was because it would be the first time they would be meeting. Then you shifted your blame when you caught a glimpse of the online catalog. Then one night while Namjoon was out with the boys, you remembered the faint promise from all those years ago, and things started making sense. 

No, you haven’t spoken to the well renowned designer in years. After a year communication between the two of you ran dry. You never resented him for it. You were going through things and he was building his brand from the bottom up. Your problems were only going to make him worry and that was the last thing you wanted. But he’s been living in your head rent free. You keep going back and forth. 

Should I text him?

Should I just settle? 

Should I text him? 

It’s a constant battle. One you haven’t decided on a winner. It’s putting such a damper on a day where you’re supposed to share fond memories with your mother and soon to be mother-in-law. Yet, you just can’t shake the feeling that you know what you want already. 

You're stubborn like that. 

“Why don’t you sound excited?” Casey lowers her voice. Her brows furrow in concern. 

As much as you love Casey and now consider her a close friend. This is something you don’t want to simply get into. So you lie, “I’m just nervous, our mothers are meeting for the first time. And both of them have strong personalities.” You sigh. 

Casey laughs, “I will keep you in my prayers for the rest of the week.” 

You smile, your attention getting caught on Namjoon’s ringtone. You don’t even need to check your phone to know that he’s texted you that he’s done and to meet him downstairs. So, without a minute of hesitation you slip your feet into your heels again and stand up. “Thank you, I think I will need it a lot on Saturday.” 

“Please, please, please send me pictures.” Casey clasps her hands in front of her, pouting and widening her eyes. You smile fondly. Casey has been your first female friend in years. A true girl's girl. A lovely breath of fresh air from all the testosterone you’ve been constantly surrounded by since childhood. 

“Of course, you’re the only one who will get pics anyway.” You round your desk and shut off your desktop, and pick up your work bag slinging it over your shoulder. 

“You mean I’ve knocked down the guys and made it up your list.” She stands up, smoothing down her pleated gray skirt. 

“You will always be at the top of the list Cas.” You smile, getting your phone and unlocking it to Namjoon’s short text: Done, down in 5 mins.

Followed by another one that says: Dinner?

You smile and type a quick: poke bowl plssssss.

You lock your phone and stuff it into the pocket of your gray dress pants. Casey scoffs as she opens the door to your office. “You two are gross and cute.” 

You follow her out of your office, “What do you mean?” You lock your office door and lock your arms with hers. 

“You get this huge smile on your face and then your eyes get all twinkly. It’s a little gross.” She bumps her hip with yours before giggling. “It’s so cute though.” 

“I think you’re making shit up.” You whisper, and she stops walking the minute she reaches the front reception desk. “I’ll buy you coffee tomorrow by the way.” You wink, as she takes her seat in front of her desktop. She still has two more hours left of her shift, and the last two hours are always the slowest. 

“You don’t have to but it's greatly appreciated.” She moves her mouse to wake up her monitor, and slumps in her seat sighing. “I’ll work on my revisions and email you the appointments for next week.” 

“Thanks Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You rush out when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You don’t bother to check it nor stay for her to reply the second the elevator dings on your floor. 

“Love ya,” Casey shouts after you, and you send her finger hearts as the elevator door closes. 

“Jin wants to go out for drinks tomorrow.” Namjoon says as he enters the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. His eyes find yours through the mirror as you begin to apply your night cream. 

You hum, placing the container against the counter. “You should go, the semester is almost over and you’ve been working hard.” You say, spreading the cream down your neck, cleaning your hands on a clean towel and proceeding to pick up the tube of your eye cream. 

“I know but he’s inviting Tae and these days wherever Tae goes so does Jimin.” He pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you. “Things are still a little awkward between Jimin and I.” He finishes, facing you and leaning against the bathroom counter crossing his arms in front of him. 

You smile, screwing the cap of your eye cream tube and placing it down. “I think you’re thinking about it too much. Jimin doesn’t hold grudges, plus we’ve talked things through already.” You pat your under eyes with your ring fingers and then turn to face him. “If it bothers you, you should talk to him too, but don’t feel pressured to do so because of me.” 

He nods, uncrossing his arms and grabs your hands, reeling you in. “I definitely want to apologize to him and settle things between us before the wedding, but I don’t feel ready.” 

“Then do it when you are ready Joon.” You reassure, lacing your fingers with his. “But I think you should still go, it’s been months since all of you got together to hang out.”  

Namjoon opens his mouth to interject but you stop him with a roll of your eyes. “Working out together doesn’t count.” 

He sighs, shaking his head, letting go of one of your hands and snaking his arm around your waist, scooting his leg between yours. “Sometimes it’s scary how you know what I’m thinking.” He whispers, placing his forehead against yours. “But I will go, I do miss them a little.” He confesses, and gives you a quick kiss on your lips before hugging you completely. “Can you tell me what’s been bothering you all week now?” 

The only downside of couples therapy and learning more about each other is that neither of you can hide anything anymore. He is well aware that you’ve been up in your head more than usual. 

You pull away, placing your hands on his cheeks. “Sometimes it's scary how you know that I’m thinking too much.” 

He plays with the tie of your bathrobe, chuckling at your response. “Your thoughts are too loud, and you didn’t sleep last night.” He shrugs. “I was waiting for you to wake me up to talk but all you did was sigh and turn a thousand times.”

You pout, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you up too.” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be. I would’ve interjected but I also know you wouldn’t have told me until your conscience was clearer.” 

You nod. “I’m nervous about Saturday.” 

Namjoon stops playing with the tie and hugs you again. “Don’t be, your mom is great and so is mine and I know they’ll get along fine. We might be making a mistake by introducing them to each other. I have a feeling they will be inseparable after Saturday.” 

“It’s not that Joon.” You sigh, he tilts his head to the side. “I know they’ll get along, it's just that–” You stop biting your lip, trying to sort your words out as quickly as possible in your head. 

As far you know, Hoseok and Namjoon haven’t spoken to each other in years. Jungkook knows why but he won’t tell you. He only says that they lost communication. But it's odd. Hoseok’s career has expanded to the point that he’s getting interviewed by Jimmy Fallon. He’s been invited to all the fashion weeks, and now has his own magazine. Your dream is to one day own one of his purses. You saw the ad for one a couple weeks ago on Instagram. You showed it to Namjoon and he had no reaction. 

Which was weird because you thought Namjoon would be proud of his once best friend. He even grumbled a little when he found your box that kept all the magazine clippings from his previous interviews. It was your way of showing your support from a distance. So, whatever happened between them isn’t a normal falling out with no hard feelings. 

From what you can tell there are hard feelings you just don’t know why. Nor do you want to pry, but the promise Hoseok made you all those years ago keeps echoing in your brain. 

Maybe this is why you’ve been running yourself up the wall. You want to reach out but you don’t know how Namjoon would react if you told him you were. After all, Hoseok was a huge part of your life. A relationship Namjoon witnessed from start to finish. 

“What is it?” He says with concern. 

“I don’t want my wedding dress to come from Hyugas Bridal.” You whisper. 

Namjoon nods, “That’s okay there’s so many other wedding dress shops, you can go to a new one.” He offers. 

You shake your head, “I don’t want any of those dresses from any of those shops.” 

Namjoon’s hands fall down to his side. “I see.” He pauses before, pushing past you and out the bathroom. His demeanor has changed so quickly you begin to suspect that he knows exactly what’s going on. 

You follow him. “Joon what are you doing?” You enter your bedroom. It’s empty and you begin to wonder where exactly your fiance went until you see him walk out of the closet with a slip of line paper in his hand. 

“Here,” He extends his hand. “Text him this is his new number.” He gently shoves the paper further in your direction. 

“What is this? Text who?” You take the folded slip of paper and watch as he walks to the bed, sitting down on the edge. 

“Hoseok, that’s who you want to design your wedding dress right?” He clasps his hands together. “He promised so it’s only right.” He adds, clenching his jaw. 

Now, you’re confused. Actually, you’re beyond confusion at this point. You’re also concerned because Namjoon looks like he’s about to burst. “H-How do you know?” 

Namjoon chuckles dryly, “He told me before he left.” He throws his hands up in the air. “Actually he told me a bunch of things but half of those things aren’t important. What’s important is that you want to wear one of his wedding dress designs so text him.” 

You take a seat next to him. “Why does this bother you Joon?” You say softly, placing your hands on top of his, trying your best to smooth down the grip. 

“Because it was supposed to be your wedding dress for your wedding with him.” He whispers, unclasping his hands and settling them on top of his pajama pants. 

“Namjoon, we were never going to get married.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. 

“But you could’ve. He’s been back in town since January. Jin has tried everything to get us to meet again but I keep turning down his invites. If we hadn’t tried to solve our issues I have no doubt he would have contacted you again.” 

You smile, bringing his hands to your lap. “Namjoon, things between Hobi and I are long over. I won’t lie to you and tell you I don’t love him anymore because I do just not in the same way I loved him back then and not the same way I love you now. I don’t want to marry him, I don’t think I ever wanted to marry him in the first place. He will always love his career more than anything in this world and that’s okay. I never will hold that against him because although it hurt when we broke up and I did make bad decisions trying to fill the void I felt when he left. I grew up. We both grew up Namjoon.” You finish, bringing his hands up to your lips and kissing his palms gently. 

Namjoon sighs, “He will likely join us tomorrow and what if you run into him one day and fall for his charms again.” He pouts.

“Are you jealous?” You tilt your head in amusement. He lets go of your hands and rolls his eyes. 

“So what if I am. Is that a problem? He’s a much better man than me in every sense of the word.” He stands up and walks to his side of the bed before peeling back your duvet. 

You turn your body in his direction, biting your bottom lip to stifle your laugh. You’ve recently learned that Namjoon loves to sulk like a child and he has no problem expressing when something petty is bothering him. 

“It’s not, I think it’s cute.” You sit up on your knees, before he scoffs and lays down, his back turned to you. You move closer to him and wrap your arm around his torso before leaning your body over his so you’re face to face with him. “You’re more than enough Joon.” You kiss his temple gently. 

Namjoon rolls onto his back. “Are you sure?” He snakes his arms around your waist tugging you closer. You straddle his lap, and lean down resting your forehead against his. “I wouldn’t be working this hard to make our relationship work and better if I didn’t think you were enough.” 

He throws his head back in defeat. His heart is beating so fast he’s thankful you can’t feel or hear it. His jealousy simmers in dying embers. Despite some unresolved differences between him and his oldest friend, he knows Hoseok isn’t one to try to break marriage apart. 

“I love you,” Namjoon says after a while. His voice is soft and full of tenderness. 

I love you.” 

The last time you felt this nervous was the day you had to read your master thesis out loud in class to a group of judgmental writing students. The sales assistant has been watching you pace for the past five minutes since she led you to the back of the shop. 

You admit it was a long shot, texting your ex boyfriend and world renowned fashion designer after Namjoon went to sleep. Sure, what you received was a very polite and formal message. To which you concluded that it was probably his personal assistant that messaged you. 

So, did Hoseok know you were the one meeting with him about commissioning a wedding dress. Or did he figure it was just a normal customer. Still, the whole process was fairly quick. You figured he had a packed schedule considering he had just returned to his hometown after being away for years. You couldn’t help but wonder how things were going to go today, which was why you were running the clock, driving the sales assistant absolutely insane.

Finally, you get tired of wearing a hole in the ground and take a seat on the white sofa, just as the sales assistant whispers into her earpiece. “Mr.Jung will be here in two minutes.” She voices out, adjusting her blouse before moving to the door. 

“Thank you.” You say crossing your legs and placing your bag next to you. Quickly you decide that’s too comfortable so you uncross them and place your bag on your lap again. Fidgeting with your hands, while the door slowly opens, revealing the one and only Jung Hoseok.

You almost feel like suffocating. Your breath hitches as he strolls in wearing a black suit. His hair is slicked back, and some dark sunglasses on the tip of his nose. He oozes a wave of confidence that you have never seen before, and you begin to wonder if he even remembers you and the promise he made to you all those years ago. 

After five months of being away the two of you lost contact. Three years later he unfollowed you on instagram. Well technically he unfollowed everyone on instagram and only followed one person. A beautiful model whose name was Hailey. For years, they were speculated to be dating, but nothing has ever been confirmed or denied. So, who knows. But now he was here, silent, powerful, and looking better than ever. 

And you feel foolish.

“So he finally came to his senses.” Hoseok clicks his tongue and removes his sunglasses, revealing his beautiful warm eyes. 

You don’t know what comes over you. Just an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and before you know it you’re hugging him tight and crying into his very expensive suit. He chuckles, running a soothing hand down your back. He smells fresh, like a cool breeze on the beach. He feels different, but similar and all the love you once held for him comes rushing back in powerful strokes of color. 

For a moment you feel twenty-one again. 

Finally, you pull away and look at him, taking in all the features you once knew by memory. He has a few wrinkles on the side of his eyes. But he looks sharper in all the right places and you realize that just like Namjoon he has aged like fine wine. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffle, smoothing out the lapels of his suit. “I don’t know what came over me.” You chuckle awkwardly, looking around, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. 

He chuckles, placing his hands on top of your shoulders. “I see you’re still as emotional as ever.” He notes, running his hands down your shoulders before taking your hand in his. He leads you towards the couch and sits you down before taking the seat next to you. 

“Now, tell me how have you been?” He tilts his head, intertwining your fingers with his. If you didn’t know better, you’d mistaken this for a romantic gesture. But you know better as much as you love Hoseok. The love you feel for him is different from the love you feel for Namjoon. It’s just nostalgia with Hoseok, it’s unforgettable memories that you’ve buried. It’s young love that hasn’t known experiences. It’s the chase but never settling. And you’re ready to settle down. 

“I’ve been great. The fall semester starts next week so I’ve been running around like crazy, in and out of meetings. You know the usual boring work life.” You wave off, wiping your eyes with the handkerchief he's handed you. “How have you been, you look amazing.” You blurt out, widening your eyes. 

He chuckles, “I’ve been better, fashion week is in a month and we are still deciding on garments for the models to wear.” 

“Wow, fashion week.” You say in disbelief, shaking your head, to keep the tears at bay. “You really made it Hobi. I’m so proud of you.” You whisper the last part and hug him once more, letting go of your tears. 

It was so embarrassing but you couldn’t help it. You’ll send him money for the dry cleaners later. 

“It wasn’t easy but knowing I’ll one day have this moment with you kept me going.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head, and pulling away. “You look amazing too, I’d love to have you as my professor.” He winks, making you laugh.

“I’d love to have you as my personal designer.” You retaliate, making him laugh. He lets go of your hands and stands up, posing dramatically. “That’s why I’m here. Now, come on, I have a few design ideas I want to run by you first.” He extends his hands for you and pulls you up quickly. “These are just prototypes but I think they all suit you one way or another.” He says, nodding towards the sales assistant who leaves through the bright pink curtains. 

“Wait, wait, wait Hobi. How do you already have prototypes?” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes jokingly. “Joon and I have been in contact here and there. So, I’ve been designing these since then. And don’t worry he hasn’t seen any of them.” 

You’re floored, your annoyance zeroing in on your conniving and jealous fiance. Why the hell did he make you meeting Hoseok such a big deal if he had been plotting this against your back? But instead of focusing on that, you feel the butterflies in your stomach begin to erupt when the sales assistant comes in with three garment bags. 

“Are you ready?” Hoseok says, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his dress pants. 

Your heart begins to thunder against your chest when each garment bag is hung in front of you. You look at Hoseok who has the biggest smile on his face and you realize what a full circle moment this is for the two of you. You gave up your relationship for dreams either of you didn’t know you’d ever achieve. Yet, here you are. Him a self made fashion designer making a pit stop on his busy schedule to do this for you. And you, you are working your dream job and getting ready to marry the love of your adult life. 

You smile nodding enthusiastically. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

A/n: it's short, but I will try to be more consistent with my uploads. Check out all my other stories too!

[faerieyoongles]

The Keepers 003

Hello, Keeper #0054. Welcome to your first assignment. Jeon Jungkook is the son of the wealthiest arms dealer in South Korea, and your job is to ensure his safety at all costs except one, he cannot know of your existence. In fact, nobody can know of our Society's existence. We have rules we must follow and a timeline to protect. Do your job and do it well... we're counting on you.

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Chapter Select My Masterlist Questions?

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warnings: death, gun violence, blood

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Chapter 003

“Get behind the car!” Jungkook shouts. “Now!”

The four men sprint to behind the expensive black car. Just a few seconds after, gun shots can be heard wailing in every possible direction, putting dents and slashes into the shiny black metal. I can hear the sound of the front windshield breaking, then the side windows, then the back. Within minutes, there isn’t one part of the car that’s left unscathed. I move my body and neck to look towards the back of the car, and I can see three sets of shoes. Seokjin had fallen beside the car, so close to the rear. Jungkook moves slightly towards the side where Seokjin is and drags him to safety. It looked like he was shot in his back right thigh. Shit. I had to do something or Jungkook could die on my very first day. What would that say about my abilities as a Keeper? I was already thrust into action far sooner than anyone else in my quadrant. I had to prove myself, and if I lost Jungkook on day one I’d never get this chance again. I pull out my gun from the holster strapped to my belt. If I scoot forwards towards the front of the car, I could probably take out a few gunmen from my current position. I reach the very edge of the front, though still concealed in the shadows underneath. One gunman dropped down, a bullet wound plastering his forehead, but I hadn’t even taken a shot yet. I looked back towards the end of the car, and one man was squatting near the side. He’d take a shot, then turn back to cover himself, then move to take another shot again. It was Jungkook, I was certain. By now, I recognized his well-worn brown boots. Jimin was the one with the shiny new leather boots, Namjoon had black converse sneakers, and Seokjin was still the classy dark brown polished shoes.

Jungkook had taken down three of the gunmen on his own. I’ll admit, I was quite impressed. From his position of disadvantage, it was something even a Keeper would struggle with. However, there were still many more gunmen left, and despite his impressive aim, Jungkook would never be able to take all of them down by himself. I can’t go gawking over the arms dealer's impressive shooting skills now, we’re in the middle of a free fire. I raise my pistol and aim it towards the head of one of the gun men. I pull the trigger, and the bullet is between the man’s eyes in less than a second, his body falling limp to the floor. Then I move to the next. I miss the first two shots, then he’s finally down on the third.

“Shields!” Shouts one of the gunmen. The men pull a shield out from behind their backs and raise it to cover their faces, then proceed to open fire once again. I needed to think of something more creative. If I couldn’t take down all the gunmen, then I at least needed to get the four men behind the car out of here, or just Jungkook. I couldn’t move from my position, there was nowhere to hide in this garage and the fluorescent lights allowed for little to no shadows for me to move in. Maybe that was it, if I took out the lights, I could move around the room without being seen. The garage didn’t seem to have any windows, if I took out the lights, the room would be completely dark. I change my aim from the forehead of a gunman to the lights shining above me. Luckily, there were only three. I could reach two of them from my current position, but I’d have to move to the side of the car to reach the third. I took out the first two, both lights sparking and flickering before dying out. Then, I move to the side to take out the third. The room was drowned in shadows.

“Halt!” Said the gunman, and the sounds of gunshots ceased. I shimmy my way out from underneath the car, still unable to see anything. Once I’m out, I squat next to the car and reach into my sack strapped to my belt. I took out a small box and prayed it was the right box I needed. My night vision goggles. They folded up neatly into a smaller box which made it convenient for carrying. I took the goggles out of the box and put them to my eyes, hooking them around my ears. There was a clasp in the back that snapped the two ends of the goggles together, so they wouldn't fall off during combat. Turning the goggles on, I could see the room again. “Rierson, where is your light?” Shouted the head gunman. I needed to figure out which one was Rierson before he took a light out and shined it on me. I looked to see which gunman moved first, only one of them reached behind him towards his back pocket. I moved quickly, pulling my gun out and putting a bullet in his neck, then in his head for good measure. My aim was much better now that I could stand in front of them. One by one, I plucked each man off, leaving only five men left before I looked behind me and saw a small light emulating from behind the car. Shit, Jungkook or one of his friends must have had a flashlight on them, or maybe it was just their phone. I locked eyes with the five gunmen left standing in front of me, all of which were staring at me like they’ve seen a ghost. Horror yet confusion dawned upon their faces. “Who the fuck are you?” one of them asked. I killed him within the next two seconds. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why is it that everything is going so poorly on my very first day? I trained for exact situations like these, yet I was doing such a dreadful job. The Honors would be so disappointed in me. The last gunmen all come onto me at once. Four barrels of four guns all pointed at me. The minute the bullets left their chambers I moved as fast as my legs could. I slid under the legs of one of the gunmen. Once behind him, I kicked the back of his knee, sending him falling to the ground. When he was flat on his stomach, I shot the back of his head. Blood splattered along the floor. I looked back up, and noticed another gunman had fallen. Then another. Behind me, Jungkook had moved from his position at the back of the car and was taking down the rest of the gunmen.

Fuck.

This was it. I was going to be executed by the House of Honors for exposing myself and all our people to humankind. I might as well just shoot myself right here, right now. All that training was for nothing. I’ve failed my mission and my purpose.

The last gunman changes his gunpoint from me to Jungkook. He shoots, but not before Jungkook and I both fire our guns at him simultaneously. Jungkook hits the man in the jaw, while I hit him straight on the side of his head. Jungkook makes a rather loud groan and holds his arm. He’s been shot, the last gunman’s bullet must have been lodged in his shoulder. Jungkook and I stare at each other for what feels like forever. I don’t have any explanations I can give him. I’m sure he doesn’t even know what questions to ask.

“You need to wrap that, quickly” I say finally, pointing to his shoulder. “It isn’t fatal but you could still go into shock if you don’t stop the bleeding quickly.” Jungkook just stands there huffing in pain, staring straight into me.

“Kook!” Namjoon shouts from behind the car. “We’ve gotta get out of here. Seokjin’s bleeding, like a lot, and this rag isn’t helping!” Jungkook adverts his gaze from me to where Seokjin was laid behind the car. He runs back over to the rear.

“Shit.” Jungkook curses. He looks back at me. “Any idea what to do about a gunshot to the chest?” The chest? I thought it was just his thigh. Maybe I couldn’t see as much as I thought I could when underneath that car. I moved to the back of the car where the men were and took off my night vision goggles. The light from Jimin’s phone would only blind me with them on anyways. Seokjin’s white dress shirt was soaked in a deep red. Namjoon and Jimin stare at me in confusion, but quickly bring their concern back to their dying friend.

“Nothing we can do here.” I say. “He needs a hospital, or at least the best trained medical professional you can get him to.”

“We can’t take him to a hospital, last time we did that the nurse called the cops on us because none of us could get our story straight.” Jimin says.

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.” Namjoon says. “He’s gonna bleed out if we don’t take him.”

“We won’t be able to take him anywhere unless we get this fucking door open.” Jungkook sneers, kicking the garage door that remains idle behind the car.

“The control room…” Seokjin squeezes out in shallow breaths. “It’s right outside that door,” he wheezes deeply “there's a button that opens the door.” Jungkook looked over to the door Yoongi had previously walked out of, one that I definitely heard lock tightly right before the gunmen opened fire. I remembered I had a cutting laser in my sack. It was small but it could cut through the metal, so long as the door was shallow enough. I reach into the sack while I make my way over towards the door, stepping over the bodies of the gunmen still laid about the garage.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook projects his voice across the room towards me.

“Opening the door.” I say back. I take my laser to the door handle. My idea was to cut around the handle where the lock was, which would allow me to kick open the rest of the door and pass through. I’m about halfway done with the incision when I hear a voice to my left, standing right beside me.

“Well that’s handy.” Jungook says, startling me. “Where’d you get that?” He asks. I don’t respond. I don’t have an answer I can tell him. I look up at him from my crouched position. He’s still holding his shoulder where his wound is.

“I told you to wrap that.” I tell him.

“I don’t take orders from you.” He states back. I stand up from my position, pausing my work on cutting the lock off from the door.

“Wrap it or I won’t help.” I say, looking him directly in the eyes. I can’t see his face completely clearly. It’s still dark in the garage, but Jimin’s phone light gives enough that I can see most of the outlines of his face, a privilege I wasn’t given when I was on top of the warehouse building staring down at him. Of course, I knew exactly what he looked like from the photos of him in my files, but seeing him up close in person was another thing.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook says, bewildered. “He’s dying!” He shouts, gesturing to Seokjin behind the car.

“That’s not really my problem.” I say back, expressionless. “Either you wrap your shoulder or he dies. Pick.” Jungkook was my number one priority. Even if I broke the biggest rule amongst Keepers, I was damned if I still wasn’t gonna make sure Jungkook got out of this alive. The wound looks like it hit some major tenants in his shoulder, and the metal in the bullet can cause a serious infection if he continues to move his arm around so much.

Jungkook sighs, defeated. “I don’t have anything to wrap it with. We used any cloth we had on Seokjin.” I reach into my sack again and pull out a thick gauze wrap. “God damn, you really got everything in there.”

“Give me.” I say, motioning towards his injured shoulder.

“No, give me.” He says trying to reach for the gauze in my hand.

“You can’t wrap your shoulder by yourself, you need both hands.” I say.

“Yeah, well I don’t trust you.” Jungkook says back. I tilt my head, sizing him up like an opponent.

“I just saved your ass and you haven't so much as said ‘thank you’.” I narrowed my eyes on him. If he was willing to let his friend die on the floor because he’s so insistent on fighting with me, then fine. Seokjin isn’t my mission.

“Thank you.” Jungkook states with little to no thanks in his tone. “But don’t act like I didn’t save your ass too.”

I huff. “You did not, I was handling myself just fine.”

“Having four guns all pointed straight at your head doesn’t seem like ‘fine’ to me.” He retorts. A sly smirk inches its way along his lips. “You have to say ‘thank you’ too.”

“What?” This is nonsense. We’re wasting time.

“Say ‘thank you’ and I’ll let you wrap my shoulder.” He says.

“Hello! Still losing blood over here!” Namjoon shouts from the other side of the room. I sigh heavily.

“Fine. Thank you. Now give me your shoulder.” Jungkook lets out a small laugh. His friend is bleeding out and he’s decided now is a fun time to play a game? He moves so his shoulder is facing towards me. I take the gauze and wrap it around and under his shoulder, securing his joints and tendons in place so they shouldn’t move around so much. I also double checked that the gauze added enough pressure to at least minimize the bleeding. Once the gauze was in place, I tucked the end of it under one of the straps, securing its hold. I move back to the locked door and continued cutting through it with my laser.

“What are- uh, how did...” Jungkook starts to the left of me as I’m finishing up on the lock. “Where the hell did you even come from?” He asks. “I swear you weren’t in the room earlier, and there’s no other entrances.” The lock finally gives and the door swings open. I stand and look at Jungkook. The light from the next room behind the door illuminates his face. It was the first time I could actually get a glimpse of all the details in his skin. There was a scar on his left cheek that I hadn’t noticed before in the pictures. I don’t answer his question, instead I walk through the door to find the control room. Jungkook follows after me.

“No.” I stop him. “You stay here.”

“I don’t take orders from you.” He reminds me.

“There will likely be more men with guns, and you are in no condition to fight.” I retort back.

“I decide what condition I’m in.” He says back, walking right by me into the hallway.

“Hey!” I hear from our left. “Where do you think you’re going?” Asks a man in a black uniform, much like the ones the gunmen who lay dead in the garage wore. Jungkook fumbles for his gun, but without his other hand to steady his hold, the gun slips from his grasp and falls to the floor. The gunman raises his own gun and points it at Jungkook. Before the man can shoot, I put a bullet through his skull and the man falls limply to the floor. Jungkook stares back at me with wide eyes.

“I won’t make you say thank you this time.” He can’t see it because of my mask, but I have the filthiest smirk upon my lips. “I’ll just say ‘you’re welcome’.” I stride past him to the door labeled ‘control room’. I can hear Jungkook scoff behind me as I walk away from him. The control room wasn’t locked, thank god. I open the door slowly, gun already pointed towards whatever danger lays in the room before me. It’s empty, I lower my gun back down and look around for any indication of how to open the garage door. I hear a loud buzz come from behind me, I turn around to find Jungkook had pressed a large button on the control panel. “Don’t just go pressing things.” I scolded him. I hear the squeaking sound of the garage door from the other room. Jungkook shoots me a condescending look and strides out of the control room back to the garage. I follow.

“Take him to a hospital.” Jungkook says to the men still squatting behind the black car. “I need to go look for something.” 

Namjoon shoots Jungkook a knowing look and his eyes widen in horror. “Kook, no. Absolutely not!”

“What?” Jimin questions, quickly pinging his gaze from Namjoon to Jungkook. “What’s he doing?” He asks Namjoon.

“He needs… the copy..” Seokjin heavily pants while Namjoon helps him to his feet. “The copy.. Of the deal Yoongi proposed.” Each of his arms are hung around the shoulder of the two men by his sides, the only thing that’s keeping him upright at the moment.

“I thought you said we could do this without that!” Jimin shouts at Jungkook.

“Yeah, well I lied.” He admits. “Besides, I thought Yoongi would’ve been more open minded to reopening the deal since his business is about to go bankrupt.” Namjoon and Jimin have moved Seokjin to the side of the car, Jungkook opens the back door and the two side him in, laying him down in the back seat. “Had Yoongi agreed, I wouldn’t need to steal it. So technically I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you everything.”

Jimin is shooting daggers at Jungkook right now. “If Seokjin lives, I’m going to kill you.” He says, pointer finger aimed at Jungkook’s chest. “What else have you kept from me?”

“Nothing else, I swear.” He pleads.

“Really,” Jimin says, unconvinced. “Then who’s she?” He points to me. I’ve just been standing to the side listening in. I should be slipping out as fast as possible, hiding back into the shadows. Yet, my feet are planted out in the open, the sunlight from beyond the garage illuminating my black sleek uniform. I’ll admit, it was so nice to not only see the sun but stand in it, even if it was just a peak of sunlight. It was nice to talk to someone, a real person. No, this was all bad. I should run, get out of here. If I go now, maybe the Honors will be merciful and only give me solitary confinement and a reassignment. “You never said anything about bringing back up.”

“She’s not with me.” Jungkook says.

“We’ll worry about this later.” Namjoon says, moving towards the driver's side of the car. He moves his gaze towards Jimin. “Sit in the back with him and keep the pressure on his chest. And you,” He points to Jungkook. “Do not die. I swear to god, Kook.” He gets in the car and starts the engine. With Jimin finally getting into the back with Seokjin, the three take off hastily. The car engine makes a revving sound as it descends down the driveway and onto the road.

I step closer to the garage door. Closer to the outside, and daylight. The training grounds where I was kept was always so dark and dreary, even on its nicest days. I badly wanted to strip myself of my constricting black cat suit and bath in the sunlight. My skin tingled at the idea of warmth and heat. Being able to lay in the grass and look above me at the clouds. What does grass feel like on human skin? The building we were at had a beautiful well kept lawn in front of it. I bet it felt like velvet. I bet sunlight felt like water on naked skin. I bet wind left like gentle kisses--

Before I’m able to finish my thoughts, I’m pulled back into the garage, away from my beloved sunlight. I hit the ground and there’s weight upon my chest. Jungkook was holding me down using his good arm. His wrapped one held a gun to my head.

“Let's try this again..." He sneered, far more threating than the first time he asked by the door. "Who are you and how did you get here?” His sharp intense eyes meet mine, staring straight into my soul.

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Author's note: Hey guys! Thanks for all the support on 'The Keepers'! I just wanted to let y'all know that updates might get a little bit slow. I do plan on updating regularly, but I've been struggling with an ear infection for the past month, and it's made me extremely dizzy. I've already had the first three chapters pre-written, which is how I was able to put them out so fast. I'm already struggling a bit to keep up with my uni assignments and I do (unfortunately) have to put my schoolwork above my hobbies :(

Don't stress too much though! I've been really enjoying writing and fully plan to keep the series going. My original plan was to update on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but with how my life has been going recently, I'm going to try and aim for updating once a week AT LEAST.

Again, thanks for your interest in my work! I've been thinking of also uploading this to Wattpad and/or AO3, so if anybody's interested in that, let me know!

[setsuuestsu]

Feveruary Day 15: Guiding sickie back to bed

Sickie: Hoseok | Caretaker: Yoongi

Word Count: 702

Notes: Figure Skater! Hoseok in this one … lowk I think of his 2022 W Korea shoot for this one. He was so AHHHH

It hadn’t been too surprising when Hoseok had come down with the flu. It was cold out, flu season, and he had been working so hard recently, traveling around to compete and meeting many new people. And God, the competition outfits his stylist had put him in had absolutely no insulation from the cold

So when he had come back to Korea red-nosed and sniffly, dropping his skates by the door and his suitcase in the hallway, Yoongi had jumped at the chance to cuddle with Hoseok.

“Hyung, please do not lay in that bed with him.” Namjoon pleads when he comes by Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment to drop off some of Seokjin’s soup, cold medication, some cough drops, and a box of tissues per Hoseok’s request. “You of all people are definitely not immune. Everyone knows for a fact that you’re going to get sick too.”

But with the glare that Yoongi had shot Namjoon, his friend slash coworker only ends up dropping his sandwich onto the floor scurrying off in fear yapping gibberish that Yoongi can only barely make out and Yoongi continues to lay with Hoseok, spooning the younger and making sure he feels warm and safe and loved.

He’s definitely warm with that fever, Yoongi muses. Hoseok’s fever had reached nearly 39 degrees earlier.

However, that night, when Yoongi rolls over, he notices the spot in the bed next to him is empty.

“Seok?” he calls, hoping that the younger is just using the bathroom and will return to bed soon.

There’s no response so he waits another moment.

After that moment, there’s still no sound, so Yoongi rolls out of bed, only a little harshly, as he rolls himself so hard that he ends up tangled in the blankets and falls quite ungracefully to the floor.

When he finally gets himself unwrapped from the blanket, he exits the bedroom with haste. “Seok-ah, baby, where did you go? Are you alright?”

He checks the bathroom, but the lights are out and there’s no Hoseok in sight. He moves through the hallway and stops once he reaches the living room. There, Hoseok stands, coughing softly as he spins unceremoniously on the balls of his feet.

“Seok-ah…?” Yoongi asks in disbelief. “What are you doing? You should be in bed resting.”

“Look, YoonYoon, I’m doing a triple axel.” Hoseok mumbles feverishly and then faceplants onto the couch. He’s sniffling frequently and most definitely in need of a tissue.

Yoongi immediately hurries to his boyfriend’s side and helps him to his feet. “You dummy, you have a fever. And that triple axel sucked, by the way.”

Hoseok giggles deliriously. “My YoonYoon …”

The elder supports most of Hoseok’s weight, leading him back down the hallway and towards the bedroom. The younger’s legs are like jelly, nearly dragging along on the floor as they walk. “Lay down. I’ll go grab you some more fever reducers.”

Once they reach the bedroom, Yoongi helps prop Hoseok up with a few pillows and kisses Hoseok on the nose, turning to head to the kitchen to find the fever reducers. He doesn’t miss how Hoseok sneezes from the contact, sniffling frantically afterwards. Okay, so making a detour to the bathroom to grab tissues.

When he returns with medicine and tissues and sees that Hoseok has thankfully not tried to get out of bed and is still laying in the same spot, he sighs with relief. He knows the figure skater well enough to know that he usually tries to ignore the fact that he’s ill. A couple of years ago, Hoseok had done a free skate with a pretty bad sinus infection once, which had left Hoseok bedridden for nearly a week afterwards.

He holds a tissue to Hoseok’s nose just in time for the younger to sneeze into it harshly. Once he’s certain that his boyfriend is done, he wipes the mess under Hoseok’s nostrils and throws the tissue into the trash can.

“Night, hyung.” Hoseok murmurs, drifting off before Yoongi can get any medication in him.

Yoongi doesn’t bother correcting Hoseok and telling him that it’s morning. He kisses the skater on his forehead and quietly murmurs a “Get well soon,” into his hair.

[angel1cjules]

forbidden love pt.1

"I'd get my hands dirty in order to kiss you one more time..." PAIRING - assassin!reader x enemy's assassin!jk WARNINGS - lots of blood <3, name calling, mentions of kidnapping and r@pe, unprotected sex ( wrap it up! ), fingering, dom!jk x sub!reader, overstimulation, lots of needy kisses, forbidden relationship between jk and reader, jk would do basically anything for reader to kiss him one more time. enemies to lovers au WORD COUNT - 612 a/n - YALL HAVE BEEN SO SUPPORTIVE WHAT- TYSM. I hope you enjoy this ;) ✂---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Y/N!" Your boss called. It's another bloody day at work. You wish you didn't end up as an assassin but you did. You had to kill so much people, so much rivals of your boss to be known as one of the most dangerous female assassins in Korea. You were trusted to do any killings the boss needed. "Y/N." Your boss called once again, snapping you out of your daydream. "What has got you thinking like that?" your boss questioned. "Yoongi, why do you care?" you reply, stretching your arms across the table. Min Yoongi, one of the most powerful mafia bosses of this country, had fallen prey to your rude yet sarcastic replies. "Y/N, I need you to kill my ex-best friend, Namjoon." he said, getting straight to the point. Your eyes widen, Namjoon? Yoongi sensed your confusion and quickly added "He killed some of our guys last night. Along with that, his assassin, Jungkook, or whatever his name was, killed my partner, Hoseok." You slowly nod, planning Namjoon's demise in your head already. "Did he know that he killed your workers?" you ask him before leaving. "Pretty sure he did because I didn't send over the drugs he asked for," Yoongi said, looking at his computer. "Alright, when do you want the job done?" you say, grabbing your Lululemon duffle bag which held all your weapons. "Within tonight since he's going out of town tomorrow," he said, glancing over at your seemingly innocent duffle bag. You nod and head out of the room, preparing yourself for the blood to be shed tonight. ✂---------------------------------------------------------------------------- You go to the local rage room and pick out a katana. You know which room to practice in as this isn't your first or last time being here. You see 2 men in your room, slashing away at the punching bag or the air. You put in your headphones and begin slashing. Little did you know, those 2 men in the room were Jungkook and Jimin, assassins of other mafia bosses. "Damn, she's hot as fuck" Jimin remarks, checking out your perfect body. "Dude, back off, she's mine" Jungkook smirks. You were minding your own business when SLASH! A katana slashed through your upper arm, letting blood gush out. "FUCK, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to" Jungkook immediately rushed to you and held your arm tightly. "You assholes, why the fuck can't you practice further away!?" you yell at the older men. Jimin rushed to you with a first aid kit, leading you to think you think that this isn't the first time they slashed someone. "Get the fuck off of me" you try pushing Jungkook's hand away but his grip was too tight. "If I let go, you're gonna lose a shit ton of blood." he replied coldly. Jimin wrapped your wound with a bandage and apologized so many times for a mistake he didn't commit. You left the room, annoyed and in a little bit of pain. This wound was a scratch compared to all your other scars. ✂---------------------------------------------------------------------------- An hour later, you finally got to Namjoon's hideout where he was staying. You wore a skin-tight black suit that covered your torso, legs and half of your elbow. Below your elbow, you wore gloves. You wore a hood to hide your identity. Your movements were as light as a feather as you didn't want any attention while you were sneaking in. You finally found a window that was open and slowly crept in. You landed on your feet with a thud and when you were closing the window, you felt a hand slither around your waist and another hand muffle your mouth.

[theharrowing]

Showstopper 📸 5: Couples outfits

Hoseok knows the rumors.

Everyone in the industry knows the rumors.

Min Yoongi is a player. Min Yoongi is a snake. Stand in front of Min Yoongi’s camera, and you will be just another one of his victims – prey for him to use as he pleases and toss away when he gets bored.

📸 Hoseok x Yoongi

📸 word count: 22.3k

📸 strangers to lovers, model & photographer au, angst, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

📸 warnings: very soft moments & clear communication; smut (bottom Yoongi, top Hoseok; sloppy blowjobs, handjobs; anal plug; brief fingering; anal sex on the desk; spit as lube; marking); tickling

📸 note: *kicks down the door* let's fucking goooooo!!!!!!! *gif of namjoon screaming - you know the one*

📸 written for the BTS Found Fest

📸 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading

📸 posted april 2025 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

For once, Yoongi is late. And for that, Hoseok is glad.

He and Seokjin share a table in the private room at the ramen shop that Hoseok is beginning to think may be Seokjin's favorite restaurant. A white carafe of hot sake and three glasses of water are brought to the table and Seokjin orders sides of pork gyoza, chicken karaage, and edamame. With the tip of his thumb, Hoseok traces shapes against the condensation of his glass, watching as it drips to the white tablecloth, while Seokjin taps out a message on his phone. 

"He should be here any moment," Seokjin finally says with a sigh. 

Hoseok hums to show he has heard but continues to space out. He still struggles to shake the dream he had about Yoongi, and seeing him so soon after feels detrimental to his sanity. Not to mention, they still have not handled everything that transpired last night.

And there is the matter of Seokjin knowing at least something is going on between Hoseok and Yoongi. Or, rather, that something had been going on. He witnessed the fallout of their argument, and Hoseok does not need to be a fortune teller to know that Seokjin will bring it up again. He is not one to leave a topic undiscussed. Hoseok is not sure whether he is ready to face it yet. 

The door to the private room slides open, and Seokjin heaves out a sigh. Hoseok is ripped from his daze of staring at his water glass and turns to find Yoongi rounding the table to sit at Seokjin's side, directly across from Hoseok. He wears a white button-up tucked into tight black slacks with a black jacket draped over his arm. His hair is pushed behind his ears, and he wears rectangular black-rimmed glasses, giving him a very sexy professor vibe that Hoseok attempts to ignore. 

Seokjin, who stands to greet Yoongi, wears a black sweater with black slacks and a large shiny Rolex on his wrist. For once, he is the most dressed down, and Hoseok is rather glad to see him in something a little cozy.

"At last," Seokjin mutters. 

Yoongi settles, saying, "Meeting went long, but it was productive. I can fill you in on Monday."

Hoseok wishes he had jewelry or something to fidget with, but unfortunately, he took a more minimalist route to his look, wearing predominantly business pieces from his Louis Vuitton haul. A simple black tee is tucked into grey wool cigarette slacks with a subtle checkered pattern. He wears his favorite Dior loafers and has chosen to keep his hair untouched, leaving it with a bit of bounce and frizz. A matching grey jacket is draped over the back of Hoseok's chair, and he is even free of makeup. While appraising himself in the mirror at home, he rather liked how the sleek clothing made him look like just another guy, for once, and not a pretty doll meant to be flaunted and adored. Sometimes, Hoseok thinks he would like to blend in a little more and be perceived a little less. 

When Yoongi's gaze meets his as he settles across the table, it lingers, and Hoseok wishes he knew what he was thinking. Does he like the way he looks without makeup? Or is he disappointed that Hoseok has not come dressed as eye candy? What was it Hoseok thought about wanting to be perceived less?

Seokjin has already taken the liberty of filling out the ordering sheet with all the various toppings for their ramen, and he quickly goes over it with Yoongi, who nods in approval, before placing the sheet at the end of the table to be picked up.

"Gentlemen," Seokjin says, reaching for the carafe of sake and filling three small cups. "I have called you here because I have two orders of business I would like to discuss."

"Is Paris on that list?" Yoongi asks. 

Seokjin picks up his napkin and tucks it into the front of his shirt, causing Hoseok to do the same. Yoongi, to Hoseok's chagrin, begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing a white tee underneath. Seokjin looks at him with an expression that asks what the hell he is doing. 

"I always make a mess with this soup," Yoongi says, unbuttoning his cuffs and shrugging out of the shirt. 

Hoseok attempts to look anywhere else, doing all he can to avoid gawking at Yoongi's bare arms. Meanwhile, Seokjin sits and watches Yoongi undress with his hands folded over the table, and Hoseok has to fight the urge to laugh. He is absolutely waiting for Yoongi to be done moving around before he begins to speak, and honestly, Hoseok loves that for him. Seokjin truly is a man who commands attention. 

Yoongi sits with his shirt folded, seemingly trying to figure out where to put it. His jacket is already draped around the back of the chair, and he does not seem like he wants to drape it over the arm. 

Hoseok holds his hands out and says, "Give it here," and Yoongi stares at him, holding the garment as if protectively. Hoseok sighs. "I have an empty chair here," he cocks his head to the left. "I can keep it safe."

Yoongi nods and hands the shirt over. The muscles of his arms flex and relax as he moves, and Hoseok spots pretty veins snaking up his forearms that he forces himself to look away from. He touches the warm garment as little as possible, disallowing their fingers from grazing and holding his breath so as to not detect a hint of Yoongi's musk. 

With the shirt placed firmly on the chair, Seokjin sits high, appearing as though he is going to speak. And then the serving staff enter to take their order, and Seokjin lets out an impatient huff that is hardly detectable before smiling and handing over the ordering sheet. The server relays all the information in quick succession, circling toppings with a pen and jotting down notes. Then he bows his head and leaves the room.

Seokjin clears his throat. "First order of business is discussing what the hell happened on Friday night and how we, as a team, plan to move forward."

Hoseok looks up at Yoongi with wide eyes and notices how Yoongi shifts in his seat, gaze glued to some spot on the table. 

"Then, once that is out of the way," Seokjin continues, "yes, we will be discussing Paris."

Neither Hoseok nor Yoongi responds. Seokjin waits about three seconds before saying, "Well? Don't all speak at once!"

Remembering what Taehyung always says about clear, honest communication, Hoseok decides to make an attempt. It is hard to know how much to divulge to Seokjin without discussing it with Yoongi first. 

"He said something that upset me," Hoseok begins. "I was drunk and in my feelings, and—"

"What did he say?" Seokjin asks. 

Yoongi shifts in his seat and grumbles, "Hyung."

"I'm not speaking as your business partner, Yoongiah," Seokjin says softly. "I am speaking as your best friend. What is going on between the two of you?"

Yoongi tongues the inside of his mouth while Hoseok picks up the small cup of soju and sips its warm, boozy contents. He wishes Yoongi would be the one to tell Seokjin, seeing as how close they are. But he knows that, at this rate, nothing is going to be solved.

"Over the course of working together at M, we have become physically interested in one another," Hoseok blurts, "but Yoongi is anti-romantic, I guess, or…something…and we haven't been communicating well, and I have been struggling with not taking it too personally. He said some stuff that upset me, but he wasn't totally in the wrong, I was just too drunk to deal with it or defend myself."

Seokjin nods, taking in the information while sipping on his sake. The silence makes Hoseok feel antsy and stressed out, and he continues to ramble.

"I know it's not very professional, and I am deeply apologetic for—"

Seokjin raises a hand and shakes his head. "You two are adults, and it is not my concern what you do, so long as it does not totally upend your ability to work together. Although, it does make sense…the Louis Vuitton shoots did seem a little tense, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. And then Hoseok abruptly left to work elsewhere...and now, I see." He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

"You know how I am," Yoongi says almost flippantly, picking up his soju. 

Hoseok finds it fascinating how Yoongi's mood seems so different around Seokjin. If it were just the two of them, he would be all smirks and snide remarks. But around his hyung, Yoongi seems at a loss for words. 

"I do know how you are, and honestly, I do not understand it," Seokjin says. "You could benefit so much from settling down. And, sorry but not sorry for saying so, Hoseok is an absolute catch. I just don't get it."

Hoseok swoons somewhat, smile stretching over his face. He is pleased that, at the very least, a man with such refined tastes as Seokjin thinks he is a catch.

Yoongi nibbles on the inside of his lip with his gaze fixed down on the table. He shrugs. "Dating just feels like a lot of social pressure."

"Social pressure?" Seokjin scoffs. "Yoongichi, nobody knows what you look like. You could walk out into the street holding Hoseok's hand with hearts bursting from your eyes, and not one single person would be the wiser. You have kept your pretty little face hidden for the entirety of your career, guaranteeing yourself privacy everywhere you go. What the fuck are you so worried about?"

Yoongi opens his mouth to counter, then licks his lips. He appears lost in thought. 

"Not to mention, models and photographers fuck around and date all the time," Seokjin continues. "This career caters to beauty, luxury, and opulence. And sure, there are people who abuse that power, but you are not that kind of man. Partake and enjoy your life. Stop being such a curmudgeon."

With a hum, Yoongi nods, seemingly to himself. He picks up his water and takes a long, slow drink, and Hoseok watches as his throat bobs before realizing he is staring and looks down at his own water. 

"What is the worst that could happen if the public learned about your entire life tomorrow?" Seokjin asks. He sits wedged in the corner of his chair, staring Yoongi down. 

Yoongi just shrugs. 

"Nothing," Seokjin says. "The rumors increase, at worst. At best, nothing happens. You have social clout and wealth. And, despite the rumors that already exist, nobody you've hooked up with or briefly dated speaks poorly about you. Even Jeongguk, who seemed pretty eager to leave M behind after your little tryst, had only kind things to say about you and the magazine last night. You build up these walls as if you are some kind of enigmatic Batman villain, and you are not. People like you."

Hoseok cannot help it; he chuckles. To his delight, so does Yoongi, and the tension in the air feels somehow lighter. 

"You're right," Yoongi says softly.

Seokjin beams. "Of course, I am. When am I ever wrong?"

Servers arrive with the appetizers, as well as small plates and bowls containing the various toppings for their soups. Hoseok takes in a deep breath of fried chicken skin and salty soy sauce, and he shifts in his seat, waiting for one of the older men to begin and grateful that Seokjin wastes no time plucking an edamame pod from the dish. 

"Do you have feelings for Hoseok?" Seokjin asks bluntly once the staff have left the room.

Yoongi glances up, meeting Hoseok's eye. He looks worried. "Yes."

"And Hoseok," Seokjin asks.

Hoseok nods before he can finish, saying, "Yeah."

"Because, look, Hoseok, the catch for going to Paris Fashion Week is that you will be signing a year-long contract with M. We are going to be doing tons of promotional work, as well as partnering with brands and other magazines, and we need to make sure you are committed to the full brunt of the work before, during, and after the event."

Hoseok sits tall in his seat, taking everything in. How could he turn down such a life-changing offer? "Of course," he says. "I mean…that makes sense. And I would like to commit to a one year contract."

"Job security is a wonderful thing," Seokjin says, and Hoseok smiles as he says, "Yes."

"But that will mean working closely with him for one year," Seokjin points his metal chopsticks at Yoongi, who is busying himself with dipping a piece of breaded chicken into a spicy mayonnaise sauce. "And going to Paris with him. You can do so as friends, as lovers, whatever, I do not care, but you need to get along."

Hoseok nods. There is insistence but kindness is Seokjin's voice, and he feels grateful to have someone around to mediate between them, even if it does feel a bit like being scolded by one's parent. 

Bowls of soup are placed on the table, and the chatter devolves into discussing the food before them, as well as Seokjin briefly mentioning Sunmi's upcoming schedule with Louis Vuitton. 

"Perhaps we should have both of them in the same brand for the next issue," Yoongi says, glancing at Hoseok. "Hoseok and Sunmi may make a good team, don't you think?"

Seokjin nods. "I was thinking the same. I would like to see the two of them sharing ad space. And for the upcoming street wear campaigns, it would be nice to have all the newer models with them, keeping Hoseok and Sunmi in the center." He winks at Hoseok, who smiles while slurping a spoonful of broth.

The three of them fall into a comfortable silence, save for the sounds of slurping and the scraping of metal and plastic against ceramic. And then all at once, Seokjin's phone rings, and he is standing out of his chair and pulling out his wallet. 

"Yes, of course," he says, throwing a pile of won notes to the table, "I can be there in fifteen."

Hoseok watches dumbstruck as Seokjin musses up Yoongi's hair and says, "Sorry, kids, gotta run. Our clumsy Namjoon needs a hand with something. See you Monday at the studio." He makes for the door, then stops and says, "Hoseok, I would like to begin the contract as soon as possible. See you Monday at M?"

"Y-yeah," Hoseok says, eager to return to the studio. "See you Monday, boss."

In a rush, the door is slid open and closed, and Hoseok's torso is twisted, eyes glued to the spot where Seokjin just was. He swallows thickly and rotates back toward the table. Back toward Yoongi.

Yoongi sighs. "I should have known they would do that."

Hoseok hums, cocking his head. 

"Seokjin likely put Namjoon on a timer, telling him when to call with an emergency so he could leave the two of us to discuss everything between ourselves."

"Oh."

Yoongi appears lost in thought, swirling his chopsticks around in his soup. This is perhaps the quietest Hoseok has ever seen him. He doesn't care for it. 

"Okay, this silence feels awkward. Can you just…" Hoseok waves his hand in the air as if attempting to conjure the version of Yoongi who is more of a pain in the ass, "I don't know…say something annoying. Comment on my physical appearance or make a dick joke or something. Anything."

Yoongi's mouth quirks, and he leans on his elbows. "Seok, I'm trying to enjoy my meal. May I?"

"Fine," Hoseok says, feeling antsy. He supposes Yoongi is allowed to enjoy his soup.

"Plus," Yoongi's brow furrows slightly, "maybe we should actually attempt to talk things through."

Hoseok nods. "You're right." He slurps some noodles and seaweed, careful not to let any of the broth drip onto him. The soup is hearty and delicious, and incredibly filling. Once he swallows, he says, "I'm actually shocked by how quiet you are around your hyung."

Yoongi groans. 

"Pretty rude of you to make me do all the talking," Hoseok says, half joking. "It's kind of hard for me to respect your boundaries when I don't know what they are. A little help would have been nice."

"Sorry for that," Yoongi says. "I was actually hesitating for the same reason." He glances up and holds Hoseok's eye contact. It is soft and consoling. "I'm an open book with Seokjin-hyung; you can tell him anything about me. But I was worried about saying something that might upset you."

"I suppose we didn't exactly have a chance to plan ahead for this," Hoseok mutters. 

"And he is right," Yoongi says before taking a large, slow bite of noodles. 

"Oh?" Hoseok asks, reaching for a gyoza and dipping it into a tangy-sweet mixture of soy sauce and rice vinegar. 

Yoongi takes his time chewing, swallowing, and having a drink of water. "I suppose I have been a bit ridiculous about my privacy. I have been thinking more about it, especially after last night."

Hoseok would rather not be reminded of last night. He reaches for the carafe of sake and fills his and Yoongi's cups, then raises his to his lips, wondering whether now would be a good time to continue that conversation. 

"Last night," he says, tipping some of the sake into his mouth and taking his time swallowing it. "You were pretty out of pocket, hyung."

Yoongi shifts in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. He says, "I regret the way I handled that situation."

Hoseok sets down his cup and relaxes into his chair, resting his hands in his lap and studying Yoongi. "I understand why you said all of that, even if I do not wholly agree with it. You are right that I have been selfish."

"I have been, too," Yoongi admits. 

Hoseok scoffs. "I think that if you were truly being selfish, you would care less about what strangers thought of your personal life. You hold back a lot."

"It is true that I am not very romantic," Yoongi says, placing his hands in his lap and sitting back. "I appreciate physical closeness and doing this—" he waves a hand toward the food, "—dining with you. We have great chemistry and I find myself thinking about you constantly. But, when it comes to anything outside of sex, I generally like to take things a little slower."

Hoseok nods appreciatively. He gives Yoongi time and space to say more, watching as his eyes trail around and return to Hoseok. Yoongi licks his lips and smiles. 

"I actually kind of like how clingy you are sometimes," Yoongi admits, smile sharpening into a smirk that rises and falls in minuscule movements as if he is fighting against it. "When you get all fussy because it's taken me too long to respond…you become pouty and even needier."

Hoseok rolls his eyes. "You cannot be serious."

"Not that I want you to be jealous or worried, or anything like that," Yoongi says. Hoseok feels the tip of a shoe graze against his ankle, and he lets out a slow, deep breath as he adjusts and scoots forward, giving Yoongi more room to play footsie with him. "But I like how much you want me."

"You have no idea how much I want you, hyung," Hoseok admits in a soft, almost embarrassed tone. 

Yoongi hooks Hoseok's ankle around his, lifting Hoseok's leg. He complies and stretches, grazing the tip of his loafer against Yoongi's knee. 

"Is that so?" Yoongi asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Each of Hoseok's exhales feels heavy, and his head begins to spin. "Yeah. I have also been holding back. It feels a bit humiliating to pour my feelings out to a brick wall."

Yoongi's fingertips work their way under the hem of Hoseok's slacks and dance over his skin, drawing lines and circles, giving Hoseok goosebumps. 

"Regardless of everything, I have been exclusively seeing and speaking with you," Yoongi says. His fingernails tickle Hoseok's ankle joint. "I think about you often, and there is nobody else on my mind. I would be receptive to knowing more of those feelings you have for me."

Myriad thoughts and emotions fill Hoseok, and he is increasingly overwhelmed by the possibility of it all. He wants to outright ask Yoongi whether he will be willing to make an honest attempt at becoming close, but he fears coming off as being too pushy. 

He settles on asking, "What would you like? How do we proceed?"

Yoongi picks up his chopsticks while his other hand stays on Hoseok's ankle, and he dips a gyoza into sauce before shoving it into his mouth. His fingers tickle Hoseok's skin while he chews and sets down his utensils in order to sip his sake. 

"Paris is half a year away," Yoongi says, reaching for an edamame pod. 

Hoseok nods and reaches for his chopsticks. Slowly, he grabs a piece of karaage. 

"We are going to have a lot of work to do," Yoongi continues, "and we will be spending a lot of time together. So why don't we just…do that."

Hoseok tilts his head. 

"Go with the flow, I mean," Yoongi says, dipping another gyoza into sauce. "Let's be in each other's way, take business dinners, spend time together outside of work, feel the situation out one day at a time. Is that…is that enough?"

Yoongi cradles the dripping dumpling in his chopsticks and watches Hoseok, waiting for a response. Hoseok nods but considers what Yoongi is asking of him.

"You want to get close without worrying about labeling it," Hoseok attempts, hoping he does not misspeak. Yoongi nods, then opens his mouth as if he has more to say, but Hoseok is already saying, "I'm comfortable with that."

He raises mayo-dipped chicken to his lips, then pauses to say, "As long as we communicate."

"Of course," Yoongi says.

"I'll stop being so bratty and clingy," Hoseok chides, hoping to bring levity to everything. 

Yoongi shakes his head. "I like the brattiness. And the clinginess…to an extent."

Hoseok, with a mouthful of chicken, mumbles, "You sure called me a brat last night as if it were an insult."

"Seok," Yoongi grumbles. 

Hoseok resists the urge to stretch his leg enough to shove his foot in Yoongi's crotch. He swallows his bite and a sip of water. 

"We have both been unfair," Hoseok says in a stern, conceding tone. "But it needs to stop. Moving forward, we must communicate. I need to know what your boundaries are, I need to know whether they change…I respect that you are a private person, but where I am involved, things need to be clear. Out in the open."

"Out in the open," Yoongi repeats, and Hoseok nods encouragingly, saying, "No secrets."

Yoongi pours more sake into their small cups. "This morning, when you asked whether my ears were itching," he glances up and raises an eyebrow, "why did you ask me that?"

Hoseok clears his throat and attempts to lower his leg from Yoongi's knee, but Yoongi holds him firmly in place and leans forward as if eager for an explanation. He says in a playful tone, "No secrets, Seok."

"I had just been, uh, you know," Hoseok picks up his cup of sake, speaking directly into it as he says, "thinking about you."

"Thinking about me?" Yoongi asks, lifting his cup to his lips as well. Hoseok nods. "What about me?"

"So many things," Hoseok says on an exhale, shaking his head. "You in…all sorts of…positions."

Yoongi mouths the word positions, then scoots forward, resting Hoseok's shoe between his thighs. "And in these…" 

Hoseok stammers, "P-positions."

"Positions," Yoongi says slowly, enunciating each syllable while his smile widens into something playful and dangerous, "what was I doing?"

Feeling like a fish out of water, Hoseok opens and closes his mouth, struggling for the right words. Without warning, the door to the dining room slides open, and Hoseok instinctively jerks his foot out from between Yoongi's legs, slamming his knee into the table and causing all the contents on top to rattle. Embarrassed and in pain, Hoseok leans forward, burying his face in his hands. Yoongi is laughing. 

"My apologies," a soft-spoken server says. "Is there anything more we can bring you?"

"Just the check, please," Yoongi responds, laughter jolting through each word. "Thank you."

Once the door has been slid closed, Yoongi laughs loudly as if he cannot believe what just happened. Hoseok pours the final sips of sake into the cups and eats the last three edamame pods in quick succession, leaving the empty casings in the pile with the others, all while keeping his head tilted forward in shame. 

"What do you have planned for the rest of the day?" Yoongi asks, standing from his chair and running his hands down his thighs as if to dust off any crumbs. His white tee clings to him, and Hoseok cannot help but trace the lines of his stomach, chest, and shoulders. 

"Nothing," he says. "No plans."

"I need to run some errands," Yoongi says, rounding the table the long way past Seokjin's vacant seat to grab his shirt, "Going to stop at some boutiques and pick up a camera part. Care to join me?"

Hoseok glances up to find Yoongi watching him while he buttons his white shirt. He resists the urge to reach out and touch him. Despite them agreeing to take things one day at a time and continue what they had been doing, he does not want to do too much too soon.

"Sure," Hoseok says because he has no reason not to tag along. Spending quality time with Yoongi while performing work-related tasks seems like a good way to get to know him without feeling tempted to make things more physical.

"Perfect," Yoongi says. He holds out his hand, jacket draped over his arm. "Shall we?"

Hoseok scoots his chair back and takes Yoongi's hand, basking in its warmth and sturdiness as he stands. As Yoongi releases him, Hoseok stands unmoving for a few seconds, taking in Yoongi's appearance. The glasses are dangerous. 

Judging by the way Yoongi screws up his face, he seems ready to ask why Hoseok is staring at him. Hoseok breaks his trance and grabs his jacket, mutters, "After you," and then follows Yoongi out of the private room through the main dining hall. 

Once outside, Hoseok says, "You forgot your mask."

Yoongi turns his gaze, squinting at the sun. "Seokjin was right about me worrying too much."

They walk toward his SUV, which is parked on the street, and Yoongi approaches Hoseok's door to open it, causing Hoseok to gasp dramatically. "Wow, chivalrous," he teases. 

Yoongi leans close, "Isn't this the soft, romantic shit you like?"

"Listen, I'm not complaining," Hoseok says in a mock-defensive tone. "I like a man who opens doors, literally and figuratively."

Yoongi chuckles with an eye roll, and Hoseok grins, taking a seat. Once he is settled, Yoongi closes the door and rounds the vehicle, sliding into the driver's seat. 

"If you don't mind," Yoongi says while pressing the ignition start button, "I would like to stop home and change." Hoseok sighs dramatically, causing Yoongi to glance over at him, asking, "What?"

"Nothing," Hoseok says. 

There is absolutely no way in hell Hoseok will be following him into that dark abyss he calls an apartment. Hoseok wants to attempt to spend one day with Yoongi that does not devolve into sex, and he knows that he is far too weak to scurry on into a lion's den and expect to not be devoured.

"It will only take a moment," Yoongi insists, coming to a stop before turning onto the busy street that leads to his side of town. "The white dress shirt just feels too stuffy and formal."

They drive without speaking, Yoongi tapping his fingers along to music that plays quietly while Hoseok watches the city pass. He feels much more confident about this messy little situation, and he is hopeful that, at last, things will be a little easier. 

As they pull in front of Yoongi's place, Hoseok unclips his seatbelt but relaxes into the seat, pulling out his phone. Yoongi opens his door but then stops, half-standing, half-bending, asking, "Are you staying here?"

"Yeah," Hoseok says, thumbing into his messenger app and clicking on his conversation with Taehyung. "I don't mind waiting."

Yoongi sits back down in the seat, reaching to turn the ignition back on, then he pulls his keys from his pocket and sets them into the center cup holder. "Don't need my little puppy dying in a hot car," he teases as he slides out of the seat.

Hoseok is in the middle of saying, "What the fuck did you just—" when Yoongi closes the car door and rounds the hood, making his way to his apartment. "—call me," Hoseok finishes, muttering to himself. He watches Yoongi's ass until it disappears behind the front door of his apartment building, then busies himself with texting his bestie, eager to gush to someone.

Hoseok Yoongi-hyung and I had The Talk™

He looks up again, taking in his surroundings. The trees that line the streets are slowly beginning to yellow, and the sunlight already has a late-summer afternoon heaviness to it that makes the world feel cozy. The air is warm but with a promise of chill to come, and all the shadows are beginning to stretch a bit longer.  His phone buzzes in his hand, and he smiles down at the one-word message.

Taehyung Spill.

Hoseok nibbles on his bottom lip, glancing toward Yoongi's building despite knowing there is no way he could already be coming back. He considers calling Taehyung but then decides texting is a safer option.

Hoseok He said he wanted to give it a shot. Us, I mean. But in a loose type of feeling-things-out way. No labels for now.

As he pushes send, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and holds it in for three seconds. Then his phone buzzes, and he opens his eyes, letting the held breath pass through his nose. 

Taehyung Seems reasonable. Plenty of healthy relationships are loose with labels or forgo them. Especially in the early stages. How do you feel about it?

With a smile, Hoseok begins to type that he is feeling good. But then another text comes through, this one from Yoongi, and his thumbs hover before clicking the notification. 

Min Asshole Hey, Seok. Could you do me a quick favor?

Hoseok glances around, expecting to find Yoongi somewhere outside the car, watching him. He sinks a little deeper into the seat, suddenly self-conscious despite knowing the windows are tinted enough that an onlooker likely wouldn't see him. 

Hoseok Sure. What's up?

Min Asshole I can't decide between these two ties. What do you think?

A photo comes through seconds later of Yoongi standing in front of a large mirror. He is shirtless, his black slacks are unzipped and unbuttoned, hanging open to show a smooth swath of pale blue satin. Held beside each of his naked pecs are two ties: one a subdued pale red, and one a deep blue. Hoseok uses his thumb and index finger to enlarge the photo, noticing neither tie has a pattern – patterns are a deal-breaker. Then he moves the photo down and takes a good long look at Yoongi's tummy – thin, yet muscular. Begging to be licked. Hoseok is certain that man is evil incarnate.

"Focus, Seok," he grumbles to himself, closing the photo and returning to the text.

Hoseok The blue complements your skin tone a bit more, but the shade might clash with your panties. 

He nibbles on his lip, giggling to himself for a job well done. His only regret is not being able to see the look on Yoongi's face. While he waits for a response, he returns to his conversation with Taehyung, feeling even giddier than before. 

Hoseok I think it's perfectly normal, and I feel good about it. I honestly don't mind not jumping into something more official, especially if he wants to move a little slow. 

Hoseok glances out the window again, this time tilting his head downward to try to see up through any of the massive glass windows of Yoongi's apartment, but there is no movement. When his phone buzzes, he gasps. 

Taehyung I'm glad you feel this positively about this, hyung! Although I will miss you in my bed, I still have the other two hellions to keep me busy. 

Hoseok Thanks, Taehyungie! <3 

Taehyung Any time, hyung.

Hoseok's phone begins to ring, and he realizes all too late, while answering, that it is a video call. He frantically lifts his device, eager not to give Yoongi a view of the inside of his nose. 

"Do these match better?" Yoongi asks in a distant voice, forgoing a hello. 

Hoseok holds his phone close and sees Yoongi standing in the same mirror wearing a darker shade of blue briefs that, to his delight, do match the tie. With his fingertips, Yoongi traces a line down his body, from the tie that lays open around his neck, down to his hip bone. All he wears are those two garments, and Hoseok has to shift in his seat and adjust his slacks.

"Yes," he finally says, attempting to keep his voice even. "Those are much closer in hue. Nice work, hyung."

Yoongi's voice is so low, so close to the microphone that when he says, "Thanks, Seok," it sends a shiver down Hoseok's spine. Before he can respond, the call cuts out, and the screen is black.

"He is going to pay for this," Hoseok mutters under his breath, squeezing his growing erection while he closes his eyes. He just knows that if Yoongi leaves the apartment wearing that blue tie, the visual of him in the mirror wearing nothing but the tie and briefs will haunt him for the rest of the night. 

Moments later, Yoongi appears at his front door, glasses swapped out for sunglasses despite how late in the evening it is. He wears a black button-up tucked into black slacks and no tie. Hoseok scoffs. Unbelievable.

The driver's side door opens, and Yoongi slides in, flashing Hoseok a grin while he says, "Sorry for taking so long."

Hoseok shrugs, looking out the window to say, "I hardly noticed you were gone," opting not to mention Yoongi's little game, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

He is a bit surprised when Yoongi puts the car into drive and takes off without mentioning the tie. The whole situation leaves Hoseok's head spinning, and he rests his palm over his crotch, hoping the bulge isn't too visible while his erection slowly deflates. 

Stopping at boutiques with Yoongi is tedious work, but Hoseok rather enjoys it. They visit several high-end brands, each offering a glass of champagne that Hoseok happily accepts. All of the shops feature Korean street brands, and Hoseok marvels at the bright colors and patterns, excitedly helping Yoongi choose between pieces for himself, Sunmi, and the other models, earning praise for his choices from shop employees. 

By the fifth shop, Hoseok is tipsy and in his element. His voice is a little too loud, his hand gestures are a bit too wide, and he finds absolutely everything to be charming and delightful. He can feel that his cheeks are bright red, and he swoons at the rosy hue that Yoongi's cheeks are taking on. At some point in the night, Yoongi's sunglasses go missing, but as soon as Hoseok realizes, he is onto the next distraction and forgets.

As they set more brightly colored bags and boxes into the trunk of Yoongi's car, Yoongi leans against the outer edge of the trunk opening and asks, "Have you ever thought of becoming a stylist?"

Hoseok laughs, waving Yoongi off as if the assertion is ridiculous. Yoongi's expression is unchanged. 

"I mean it, Seok. You really have an eye for fashion. I was quite impressed with some of the choices you were making."

Hoseok takes a step back from the trunk, which Yoongi closes, and he instinctively crosses his arms across his chest as if protecting himself from the mere suggestion. He supposes he does like the way certain pieces fit together…but could that really count as a skill?

"Think about it," Yoongi says as he approaches the passenger side door and holds it open. Hoseok hovers a beat, staring at the cement sidewalk and considering it. Then he sits in the passenger seat, and Yoongi leans close, elbow against the car for leverage. "Maybe this week you can take the lead? Help Namjoon dress the new models?"

With a nod, Hoseok mutters, "Sure." 

He is not at all opposed to the idea, but something about taking on a more legitimate role at the magazine scares the shit out of him. Still, he supposes it wouldn't hurt to try.

As Yoongi slides into the driver's seat, it occurs to Hoseok that he has no idea what is next. It is getting late, the sky glowing with light pollution but otherwise dark, and he tongues the inside of his mouth, wondering whether he should ask outright. 

"The camera shop is closed by now," Yoongi says, checking the time on the dashboard. It is already after nine. Yoongi turns to Hoseok, smiling as he says, "We had a little too much fun in the boutiques."

Hoseok cracks a smile, but he remains awash with trepidation. 

Yoongi shifts in his seat, turning to face him more fully. "Seok? Is something the matter?"

Hoseok swallows, licks his lips, and angles his body toward Yoongi. "I don't know," he says softly. "I think…the prospect of working as a stylist is a little scary."

Yoongi knits his brow. "How so?"

Hoseok's eyes fall to Yoongi's shoulder, his arm, his hand resting against the center console. He really isn't sure why he feels this way. 

"Imposter syndrome?" he croaks out. 

Yoongi begins to laugh. The sound is deep and melodic, and Hoseok can't help but feel slightly affronted. 

He lifts his eyes to Yoongi's face, doing his best to hold back a smile as he asks, "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," Yoongi responds, holding his hands up to show his innocence. "It's not funny. Imposter syndrome is a real thing. I'm just relieved that it is nothing more serious."

"How can doubting my capabilities not be serious?" Hoseok asks, although, at this point, he is also somewhat chuckling. The glee on Yoongi's face is hard not to react to. 

Yoongi lifts a hand and brushes the backs of his fingertips against Hoseok's cheek, causing tiny sparks to trail in their wake. Hoseok lets out a slow breath, sinking into the feeling. "Once you are back in your element, in the studio, you are going to blow everyone away."

Hoseok remembers the first time Yoongi said he would blow people away, and he rolls his eyes. "Way to be so unoriginal, hyung. You've already used that line on me before."

"And was I wrong before?" Yoongi tilts his head to the side, gaze falling to Hoseok's lips.

Hoseok shakes his head. 

"No," Yoongi all but whispers. "I was correct then, I will be correct again."

They sit in silence this way, with Yoongi delicately touching Hoseok's chin. Hoseok looks from Yoongi's eyes to his lips, and back up. He feels himself warm under Yoongi's unyielding gaze.

"Come over tonight?" Yoongi asks, gaze returning to Hoseok's lips. "Spend the night with me?"

Hoseok nods, eyes blinking slowly, feeling caught in a trance. 

Yoongi smiles, straightens out, and turns on the car. He waits for Hoseok to shift around and buckle in, and then he drives off. After only about a block, Yoongi's fingertips are grazing over Hoseok's hand, which sits limp in his lap, and Hoseok looks from the window to their hands, where his fingers flex and relax, accepting Yoongi's. Music plays, but it is too soft to make out past delicate trills of voices and random instruments. There is no discernible rhythm or beat, many of the sounds too soft to be detected. Hoseok watches as the sky darkens gradually and as the lights of downtown fade the closer they get to the residential area. 

Outside Yoongi's apartment, with the car off, they hold hands a moment longer. Hoseok attempts to pull away and Yoongi holds tighter. 

"Thanks for joining me today," Yoongi says as Hoseok glances over. 

"Of course," he says, smiling. "I had a good time."

Yoongi's eyes move left to right, then down, tracing the shapes of Hoseok's face. Then he squeezes and lets go of his hand and groans as he says, "Time to take all that shit upstairs."

"It won't be safe in the car?" Hoseok asks, thinking back to whether they bought anything other than clothing. 

Yoongi sighs. "No, Namjoon will kill me if I don't get these pieces unpacked and on hangers immediately."

It takes two trips and a lot of giggling to get all of the garments upstairs. They are a bit overzealous both times, creating towers of boxes that tip and slide in the elevator, nearly crashing to the floor while a rainbow confetti of paper bags dangle from the lengths of their arms. 

With everything safe and sound on the apartment floor, Yoongi pushes his coffee table toward the window, creating a large space on the rug. Hoseok sorts them by brand as Yoongi wheels out two metal racks with rattling hangers, each with a small shelf on the bottom. They get to work unpacking and sorting, with Yoongi sitting cross-legged on a soft black rug, handing the garments to Hoseok, who considers each piece and which others it may go with. Both men have left behind their jackets, Yoongi his button-up shirt, and they work in black tees, trousers, and socks. It feels like unwrapping gifts on Christmas morning. It feels somewhat domestic. 

Halfway through, Yoongi gets off the floor, groaning as he does so, and fetches two glasses and a bottle of white wine. He plays an indie artist on overhead speakers who has a jazzy, funky sound, and they resume their task. 

When the final garment is hung, and the final shoe is set on its designated shelf, Yoongi stretches his legs out on the rug and sits with his palms anchoring him. Hoseok begins to place paper lining back into boxes and stack them up, when Yoongi says, "Hey, Seok. Worry about that tomorrow."

Hoseok glances at the small multicolor mountain of bags and boxes, feeling overwhelmed by the mess they have managed to make. "But—"

"Seok," Yoongi lifts a hand, holding it out. 

How could he resist? Hoseok sighs dramatically and walks over, taking Yoongi's hand with the expectation of pulling him up. Instead, Yoongi yanks him down. Hoseok squats as he tips forward, knees hitting the soft rug while his free hand grips onto Yoongi's shoulder. He sits straddling Yoongi's waist, breathing in his semi-sweet wine-tinged breath. 

"Thanks for the help," Yoongi says, pulling Hoseok's hand until both their arms are wrapped around his back, causing Hoseok to lean in close. 

"Of course," Hoseok utters softly, nose nearly grazing Yoongi's. "I had fun."

"Namjoon will appreciate it. Usually I throw the garments onto the racks at random and he spends twenty minutes fussing over it."

Hoseok chuckles. He is a bit disappointed that he lost the opportunity to watch Namjoon fuss.

"How will we deliver these racks to Namjoon?" Hoseok asks, attempting to calculate the height of Yoongi's trunk in his head.

"Seokjin will swing by in the company van."

Hoseok nods. He supposes it makes sense that they would have such a simple solution to a task they have likely performed many times before. 

"Seok," Yoongi asks after a brief pause, "can I kiss you?"

Hoseok tilts his head, chuckling some more. "Why are you asking?"

In the most delicate, nearly missable movement, Yoongi's lips form a frown. "I just thought after what transpired the other night, I would check in first rather than assume."

Hoseok shakes his head, amused. "Then what was with the teasing earlier?"

Yoongi plays dumb, widening his eyes as if asking Hoseok for clarification. As if he does not know damn well what he has done. 

"With the tie, hyung." Hoseok sounds impatient. "And the nudity."

"Ah," Yoongi says, grinning. "That was different."

"Different?" Hoseok says through a soft laugh. 

"That was just teasing. But a kiss…I guess it feels more intimate."

Hoseok feels lightheaded. He lets out one more soft laugh, a huff of pleased air, as he leans close, rubbing the tip of his nose against Yoongi's. 

"Please kiss me, hyung," Hoseok says. "No need to ask."

A beat passes before Yoongi tilts his head just enough to slot their lips together. He releases Hoseok's hand to anchor both palms against the rug at the same time Hoseok melts into him, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's neck and relaxing his legs. 

Yoongi is delicate but assertive, prodding and licking at Hoseok's lips to open wider. He explores and teases, and Hoseok can feel him smile against him before the kiss deepens. Every nerve on Hoseok's body is alight, every inch of him yearning. He wants to bask in this feeling - wants to soak every inch of it up and slowly wring it out one by one, savoring each drop.

With one hand, Hoseok gently grips Yoongi by the hair, just enough to make him groan. He takes control of the kiss, sucking on Yoongi's bottom lip and licking against his tongue, chasing the flavor of his wine, teasing the tip of Yoongi's tongue. His pants are too constricting, and he begins all at once to feel a desperation to adjust and move. He lifts his ass and attempts to angle his hips in a way that stops the fabric from pressing hard against his growing erection, but each movement applies friction, making Hoseok wince.

"Fuck these Louis Vuitton pants," Hoseok grumbles against Yoongi's lips, making him laugh. He reaches a hand down to pull at the fabric, but with the way he sits with his legs spread around Yoongi's thighs, it is useless. "Fuck this thick-ass wool."

Yoongi sits up, chuckling, and says, "Take them off," and Hoseok nods, sitting back first and then hobbling into a standing position. 

He begins to undo his slacks, and Yoongi also stands. Champagne and wine simmer through Hoseok, and he stumbles slightly. He opts to sit on the nearby couch, which is far softer than he expects, and as he sinks into it, he begins to laugh some more. 

Yoongi stands on wobbly legs and takes the three steps required to join Hoseok on the couch. They rest with their heads back, and Hoseok is surprised when fingers gently wrap around his. He never would have taken Yoongi to be such a hand-holder. Through a sigh, Hoseok turns his head, finding Yoongi already looking at him. His eyes are glassy and so beautiful. 

"I think," Hoseok swallows thickly, "maybe tonight…I'm not sure I want to have sex."

Yoongi nods, grabs Hoseok's hand a little more firmly. "Alright."

"I just think we should—"

Yoongi shakes his head, "You don't need to explain yourself. Unless you want to."

With a nod, Hoseok curls his legs up onto the couch and angles his body toward Yoongi. He considers explaining his reasoning, which is that when they have sex, they are always intoxicated – at the very least, tipsy – and he wants to be sober. Clear-headed. Totally and completely in his right mind without anything dulling or enhancing his senses. 

But he simply says, "Today was fun."

A grin breaks out over Yoongi's face, tipsy and dopey. 

Hoseok asks, "What?" and Yoongi says, "You already said that. Earlier."

Hoseok tugs on Yoongi's hand, making him slide closer. "Maybe I think it bears repeating." He leans, stopping just before Yoongi's lips. "I like spending time with you, hyung."

With a soft groan, Yoongi leans closer, straining to press their lips together. 

"Gonna shower," Yoongi says, forcing himself to sit up. 

"Okay," Hoseok responds. 

"Grab whatever you want to wear from my room. Make yourself at home. I won't be long."

Hoseok nods, watching as Yoongi stands and begins to yank his black tee free from the waistband of his black slacks. He pulls it over his head, giving Hoseok a view of his lean, muscular back as he pads past the kitchen, then disappears into a dark room. Light shines, giving the impression of dark tile, then the door is closed, leaving only a sliver of yellow light against the dark floor.

Grey mesh curtains are drawn over the glass wall, putting a gauzy film over the outside. Hoseok stands, letting out a deep, slow breath as he considers going to the window to watch outside, but instead walks over to the bedroom door. He peeks inside the dark space, then finds a light switch on the wall. It is a dimmer switch, and he turns it on somewhat bright at first, then lowers it. 

Last time he was in Yoongi's room, his attention was honed in on the bed near the far left corner. Now, however, he walks in and turns to the right, into a large dark space that he assumes is a closet, as he runs his hand along the inner wall to find a switch. He should not be surprised by the depth of this space, knowing that Yoongi lives and breathes fashion, but when it is illuminated, Hoseok takes in a deep, slow breath. The room is large, with clothing hanging along the left and right walls. There are rows of shoes beneath the clothing and a large mirror on the far end, with an island in the center atop which sits small racks of watches and jewelry. 

Hoseok walks in on the right, running his fingers along the fabric of suit jackets, blazers, and tweed coats. On the left hangs dress shirts and sweaters, which means tees and pajamas must be stored inside the drawers of the island. But when he opens the wooden drawers, all he finds are more accessories. Ties, glasses, driving gloves, more watches, even more jewelry. 

"What the fuck," Hoseok mutters as colorful gems, diamonds, and fine metals gleam up at him. 

"Ah, I forgot to tell you," Yoongi's voice calls, causing Hoseok to jump. He turns to find Yoongi with a long white towel wrapped around his hips, scrunching his hair dry with a smaller white towel. "Pajamas are out here in the dresser. I ran out of space in there. Been meaning to do a remodel, but I am rarely in the mood."

"You ran out of space," Hoseok says incredulously, looking around at all the space in this closet. 

"This dresser was in there, but I wanted a bigger mirror."

Hoseok hums, thinking about Yoongi's reflection in the mirror hours earlier. "All the better to taunt me with."

He exits, turning off the light behind him, and approaches a dresser that sits beside the closet door. Yoongi has the top drawer open, taking out a pair of briefs. He slides the drawer closed and opens the third from the top, revealing rows of neatly folded cotton, and takes out a plain white shirt and a pair of grey jersey pants, then steps aside for Hoseok.

"Anything you'd like," he reiterates while Hoseok reaches in and examines the garments. 

He prefers to sleep nude, or in as little clothing as possible, but thinks he would like to wear something the first few nights he stays the night. He settles on a long, loose pair of jersey pants similar to the ones Yoongi grabbed, then he excuses himself to the bathroom to make an attempt at a nightly routine. 

"Oh, of course!" Yoongi exclaims. "There should be a fresh toothbrush." 

Yoongi bypasses Hoseok, towel still around his hips as he trots forward, into the bathroom, making Hoseok smile. As Hoseok approaches, Yoongi has a fresh toothbrush sitting atop a small white washcloth, as well as an array of facial cleansers and masks. The counter is dark marble, similar to the kitchen, with a black basin on the far right and an expanse of empty counter space to the left. 

"Hopefully something here is to your liking," Yoongi says, with his arms crossed over his chest. "You may store the toothbrush in the cabinet."

"Thank you," Hoseok responds, smiling gratefully. He removes his tee and folds it, then places it on the far end of the bathroom sink. 

Yoongi approaches, places his hands on Hoseok's hips, and presses a kiss against his left shoulder. Warmth fills Hoseok, and he allows his eyes to flutter closed as me smiles through the touch.

"Holler if you need anything," Yoongi says as his fingertips slide away and he leaves the room. 

Seconds pass before Hoseok opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. Dark marble, gold fixtures, dark wood, dark tile. There is a large shower stall that is still steamy from use, and beside it is a large black tub with gold claws. Past the massive sink and counter is the toilet, and there are fuzzy black rugs throughout on the dark tile floor.

Hoseok brushes his teeth, forgoing flossing for the sake of time and vowing to do it in the morning. He examines the facial cleansers and picks one that appears to have the same ingredients as his to-go product, then washes his face and dries it with the small white washcloth Yoongi had set aside. 

He strips from his slacks and folds them to place them atop his shirt, then does the same for his briefs and socks, placing them in a separate pile, unsure whether he will need to wear his clothing again tomorrow and borrow Yoongi's undergarments, or if he will find an entire outfit of Yoongi's that fits. 

The jersey cotton pants are soft as a kiss against his skin, and he keeps them loose around his hips. Then he uses his washcloth to wipe any droplets of water on the counter, stashes the toothbrush beside Yoongi's in a large cabinet behind the mirror, turns off the light, and returns to the bedroom. 

Yoongi sits up in bed wearing a white tee and grey pants, thumbing through his phone. His legs are crossed at the ankles, and the lighting in the room is back to being tinted lilac, though it is slightly brighter than the first time Hoseok was here. 

Yoongi glances up from his phone and melts down several inches while whining, "Seokahhh."

Hoseok grins. "Yes, hyung?"

"Topless, wearing my cozy pants." Yoongi sets his phone onto a charging dock on the bedside table and scoots further down, resting his head on a pillow. He opens his arms wide. "You are a dream. Come here."

Hoseok walks over, setting his phone on the nearest bedside table that is clear of anything but a small lamp. He gets onto his knees on the bed and hobbles over to Yoongi, then falls forward, caging Yoongi's head in with his hands pressed into his pillow. 

"Please don't leave tonight," Yoongi teases, grinning. He looks so innocent with his damp hair fanned out against his pillow and his eyes widely gazing up. 

Hoseok groans and rolls over onto his side, feigning petulance. This makes Yoongi laugh, and he quickly rolls over, draping a leg and an arm over Hoseok and leveraging his head up with a bent elbow. 

"I won't," Hoseok says, leaving off the words unless you piss me off. His eyes are wide and playful, and he wonders whether Yoongi is ticklish. 

"It's still early but I feel quite worn out. I can sleep through anything, though, so if you would like to watch a movie or something, you may."

Hoseok glances around at the bare walls. "There's no tv in here, hyung."

"I mean in the living room," Yoongi says as if it is obvious. 

Truth be told, Hoseok is not very tired. But he is also not in the mood for television. He scoots closer to Yoongi and mutters, "Sleep is fine. We can sleep."

"Do you have plans tomorrow?" Yoongi's hair hangs down, framing his pretty face. 

Hoseok shakes his head. His voice is barely a whisper. "No plans."

There is a beat of silence during which Yoongi stares down at him. He licks his lips. "If you would like to, maybe we could spend tomorrow together?"

"Oh my god, hyung," Hoseok says dramatically. "You are so obsessed with me. Seriously, this is clingy behavior."

With an exasperated sigh, Yoongi flops onto his back and begins to wiggle the comforter out from beneath himself. Hoseok helps by scooting up toward the pillows and kicking the comforter away, then he gets back into position lying beside Yoongi. They both roll toward one another, legs slotting between legs, arms reaching out. Hoseok awkwardly wedges his lower arm beneath himself and reaches with his other to brush strands of long dark hair from Yoongi's face. 

"What a whirlwind this weekend has been," Hoseok mutters through a deep exhale. 

Yoongi smiles but there is sadness in his eyes. "I remain apologetic for the way I behaved."

"I know." Hoseok's voice is soft. "Me too."

Yoongi tilts his head close and slots their lips together Hoseok strains his neck to reach, scooting his body closer. They kiss slowly, mouth opening and closing only to share minty oxygen, tongues darting out only slightly. Hoseok likes this the most: the soft, unhurried touches. He can feel Yoongi's body relax past the point of wakefulness – can sense how drowsy he is becoming with every second that passes. 

"Sleepy," Yoongi mutters into Hoseok's parted lips. 

Hoseok places a kiss on the tip of Yoongi's nose. "Sleep."

With a nod and a groan, Yoongi rolls over onto his other side. He grumbles something that Hoseok interprets as an apology for being so tired this early, and Hoseok scoots close, wraps an arm over Yoongi's waist, and curls into his back. 

He lies in the quiet lilac dark, listening as Yoongi's breath deepens, turning into soft snores. He closes his eyes and attempts to follow the same breathing pattern, in for several seconds, and out nice and slow. It takes a while, listening to Yoongi's breathing, feeling his limbs gently twitch. But eventually, finally, Hoseok begins to drift. He presses a soft kiss to the back of Yoongi's neck and then fades into sleep. 

* * *

Hoseok rolls onto his back, stretches his limbs, and slowly allows reality to settle in. The pillows are a touch too firm, the bedding has a musky scent that is not his own, and a deep, grumbly voice is speaking in the other room. 

With a smile, he remembers staying the night with Yoongi, sleeping in his bed, and, for once, not having sex. As he cracks open his eyes, he takes in the large, empty space with a scoff. "Rich people," he mutters under his breath, lifting his arms over his head and stretching while imagining all the ways he could decorate this room. 

Although he cannot make out what is being said, Hoseok can tell that Yoongi is on the phone in the living room. He remains in bed, kicking away the comforter to let some of the cool morning air hit his sweat-slicked skin, then rolls onto his side and buries his face into a pillow that smells an awful lot like Yoongi. 

After an indeterminate amount of time, Hoseok awakens once more to the feeling of the mattress dipping behind him, and he stretches his legs and toes, letting out the soft groan that always accompanies a return to consciousness. He begins to roll onto his back, but an arm wraps around him, holding him in place, while soft lips dance over his neck and shoulders. 

"Are you planning to sleep all morning?" Yoongi mutters against Hoseok's skin.

Hoseok's voice is sleep-groggy. "Woke up before but you were on the phone."

"Ah," Yoongi says, kissing up to Hoseok's hairline and making him shiver. "That was my mom. We catch up every Sunday."

A wide smile pulls at Hoseok's lips, but he keeps his mouth closed, worried about morning breath. He manages to ask, "Where does she live?" without moving his lips too much.

Yoongi groans and pulls Hoseok close, wafting warm breath against his neck. "Don't want to talk about her right now."

"No?"

More kisses against the back of Hoseok's neck. "No."

"What do you want to talk about, then?" 

With one fingertip, Yoongi teases the waistband of Hoseok's borrowed pants. Thanks to morning erections, he is already prepared for whatever it is Yoongi may want, although he laments not being able to kiss him. 

"Ah," Hoseok answers. "Don't wish to talk at all, I see."

Yoongi chuckles and then gently nips at Hoseok's neck with his teeth. "I'm sure we could come up with something to talk about."

At this, Yoongi begins to roll Hoseok onto his back, kissing along his neck, his throat, his chin. Hoseok attempts to resist the pull, burying his face down in the pillow. When Yoongi lets out a displeased, semi-feral whine, Hoseok mutters, "Morning breath."

With a deep sigh, Yoongi flops away from Hoseok. Released from Yoongi's clutches, Hoseok does a very haphazard wiggling maneuver to the edge of the bed, then he gets up on tired, unsteady legs and hobbles his way into the bathroom. 

He brushes, flosses, and rinses with some mouthwash, then he returns to the living room, where Yoongi is still in his sleep attire, hair all mussed up, pouting. 

"What?" Hoseok asks through a laugh. 

As he approaches, Yoongi holds his arms up. "You took too long and now my boner is gone."

"Boner?" Hoseok laughs harder. "Are you a child?"

Affronted, Yoongi drops his arms to his sides, but Hoseok does not accept, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's middle and squeezing tight. "You called me a spoiled brat, but just look at you."

Slowly, Yoongi lifts his arms, wrapping them just below Hoseok's shoulders, pinning him in place. He buries his face in Hoseok's neck and places soft kisses below his ear. "Are you hungry?" he mutters, barely audible. 

"Not yet," Hoseok closes his eyes and melts into the hug. "I'm not usually hungry right when I wake up."

"Coffee?" 

Hoseok smiles. "Coffee sounds good. We could also…you know…give you another boner." 

Yoongi squeezes and continues to kiss Hoseok's neck between words. "It's okay. We have all day."

They continue to hold one another, and Hoseok wonders whether Yoongi took him getting out of bed as a non-verbal way of saying he was not interested in sex. He was actually quite interested, in fact. But he also enjoys this softer side of Yoongi. 

"Want to make coffee here or go somewhere?" Hoseok asks. 

Yoongi loosens his hug and moves just enough that they can look each other in the eyes. Hoseok takes the opportunity to peck him on the lips just as he begins to respond.

"There's a brunch spot I like quite a bit, that I would have suggested. But I don't want to rush you."

"How far?"

"On foot," Yoongi screws up his mouth in thought, "maybe thirty minutes. By car, less. But it's a nice day, so I thought we could walk."

Hoseok kisses the left side of Yoongi's mouth, then the right, and then sucks his bottom lip between his teeth nice and gentle. He feels Yoongi smile against him, and although they do not deepen the kiss, they remain this way for a little while. 

"Let's get ready for brunch and then head over," Hoseok suggests against Yoongi's lips. "By the time we get there, I'll be ready to eat."

Yoongi's smile widens. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Hoseok nods. "I'm sure."

When Yoongi does not make any move to begin getting ready, Hoseok starts to push him backward, toward his bedroom. Yoongi complies, laughing. 

"We're about the same size, yeah?" Hoseok asks. 

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, causing Hoseok to roll his eyes. 

"In clothing! What did you think—"

"Yeah," Yoongi says, laughing again. "We should be the same size in clothing. Why, are you planning to rifle through my closet?"

Hoseok pouts then maneuvers them slightly to the left to prevent Yoongi from hitting his left elbow on the doorway to his bedroom. "Of course, I am," he responds, doing his best to pivot them right, toward the closet. "I can't very well go out there in yesterday's garments."

With a dramatic sign and roll of his eyes, Yoongi makes a show of how inconvenient it is that he will need to share. Hoseok is so distracted by how his sour face makes him laugh that Yoongi ends up bonking his right elbow on the opening to the closet, causing their embrace to crumble into pained gasps and laughter. 

Once they are settled and Hoseok has blown the appropriate amount of air onto Yoongi's elbow, they switch on the closet light, and Hoseok skips inside like a kid in a candy store. There are so many brands, styles, shades, and cuts. He runs his fingertips over fabrics and takes his time inspecting piece after piece. 

Yoongi insists that they do not need to fuss over clothing too much – that anything Hoseok chooses will suffice. But, to Hoseok, this is their first date outside of dining and drinks as employee and employer. Of course, he does not say so aloud, for fear of making Yoongi go skittish. 

Hoseok chooses a steel blue jacket that is slightly long but form-fitting, wearing it open over a stone grey button-up shirt; casual yet chic. The slacks match the jacket and are a bit loose around the feet, but paired with Hoseok's loafers, they should elongate his legs. He experiments with Yoongi's hair products and swoons when one of the pomades smells so much like his musk that it feels like he is carrying Yoongi with him wherever he goes. 

After some reluctance, wanting to wear a simple black sweater but giving in easily to Hoseok's best pout, Yoongi wears a similar ensemble, only his suit and slacks are slate grey, and he wears the jacket buttoned over a cornflower blue shirt. 

"Couples outfits already, Seok?" Yoongi teases as they stand side-by-side applying moisturizing sunscreen.

Hoseok's heart soars and all he can do is flash a cheesy grin, delighted that Yoongi is the one to say it and that he is not running for the hills, yet also reluctant to be too excited, lest he make Yoongi change his mind. But then he remembers once more what Taehyung always says about honesty and transparency, and he sets the tube of sunscreen on the counter and turns to the left to fully face Yoongi. 

"If it makes you uncomfortable at all that we match, I won't be offended. I got really excited by how similar the outfits are, but I also don't want you to think that we need to wear couples—"

Yoongi leans in and kisses Hoseok. Nothing more than a firm press of his lips, but it stops him from talking, nonetheless. 

"I will admit, it is a bit out of my comfort zone," Yoongi says, a hair's breadth away from Hoseok's mouth. 

"Really, hyung, it's okay if you want to—"

Yoongi kisses him again, and Hoseok chuckles, muttering, "You can't just kiss me whenever you want to shut me up," against his lips. 

With a grin and one more soft peck, Yoongi asks, "Can't I?" making Hoseok laugh.

Wearing matching sunglasses, the two of them set out for the brunch spot, walking so close that occasionally, their hands touch. Hoseok's fingers flex each time as if yearning to be held, but he does not initiate in the event that Yoongi hopes to keep some semblance of distance. Matching outfits is such a widespread trend in Korea that the two of them simultaneously stand out and blend in with the brunch crowd. They are seated quickly by a hostess who appears to recognize Yoongi at a patio table near a wall of vines. 

Feeling indecisive, they order a round of cold brew coffees, waters, and bottomless mimosas. They both zero in on a beef bulgogi breakfast burrito packed with rice, kimchi, egg, and potato, and when Hoseok whines that it sounds incredible but that it will absolutely be too much food, Yoongi gives a placating smile and suggests they split it. He even moves to the chair beside Hoseok to make sharing easier. 

The burrito is massive, and with sides of glass noodles, pickled cucumber, kimchi soup, and rice, they are both grateful that they chose to share. They even manage to drink a full bottle of champagne and Hoseok hardly feels a buzz. 

Hoseok smiles, feeling full and satiated. He leans to the left, resting his head on Yoongi's shoulder, only realizing too late that Yoongi may not want so much affection in public and jolting upright again. 

"Hmm?" Yoongi asks. 

"Sorry," Hoseok says. "I don't want to be too clingy."

Yoongi leans to grab the tall glass carafe half full of water and tops off his and Hoseok's glasses. Then he sets it down, leans close and asks, "What did I tell you last night?"

That you like it when I'm clingy, Hoseok thinks. Though, he admits he didn't take the statement to be totally serious. 

"Still," Hoseok argues. 

Yoongi leans closer still, voice low. "I might need a bit of time before hand holding and kissing, but I don't mind a little leaning. Or light touches here and there."

"Duly noted," Hoseok remarks with a smile, closing his eyes against a warm gust of air while he leans on Yoongi's shoulder once more, just for a brief moment, and smiles like a housecat on a sunny rug. 

After brunch, they walk to a nearby park, taking the long way back to Yoongi's apartment. Yoongi opens up a little about growing up in Daegu, about the family poodle, and about having an older brother. He remains sparse on the details, but Hoseok soaks up each morsel of information he can, responding in kind about growing up in Gwangju with a sister and the family shih tzu.

Nary a dredge of champagne remains in Hoseok's system as far as he can tell, so when Yoongi corners him in the elevator and presses their bodies nice and close, Hoseok lets it happen. He wants it to happen. 

"What about cameras?" Hoseok mutters into Yoongi's mouth. 

Yoongi twists, facing the camera in the opposite corner and waves hello just as the doors open to his floor. Hoseok nearly doubles over from laughter. 

Inside, they kick out of their shoes, and Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's slacks, yanking him toward the couch by the belt loops, weaving past the rainbow-colored pile of discarded bags and boxes. "May I?" he asks as he sinks down onto the cushion and opens his palms wide against Hoseok's hips. 

Hoseok nods, air heavy in lungs. Arousal begins to simmer wildly, and he shrugs out of the jacket, already too warm. He leans to drape the jacket over the arm of the couch while Yoongi opens his clasp and zipper, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. 

"Perhaps I should just undress," Hoseok chuckles, wincing as Yoongi rubs a palm over the borrowed black satin briefs covering his slowly growing erection. 

Yoongi nods, reaching for the fallen slacks as Hoseok steps out of them one foot after another. He appreciates the way Yoongi always takes care to lift his clothing from the floor. He unbuttons the grey shirt while Yoongi quickly removes his own jacket and sits high on the edge of the couch. 

Yoongi pushes open the shirt, which Hoseok keeps on, and drags his teeth over his hip bone. He bites the waistband of the briefs and tugs just enough to release and let the fabric snap. Hoseok gasps. 

"Look at me," Hoseok commands, reaching to tangle his fingers in Yoongi's hair. Yoongi gazes up through his lashes, pupils blown and mouth held slightly agape. "I like seeing you like this."

A corner of Yoongi's mouth quirks, and he tilts his head into Hoseok's hand. "Yeah?"

Hoseok nods, then releases Yoongi, letting his hand hover but giving him room to move. Yoongi runs his palms up Hoseok's thighs and hips, hooking his fingertips on the elastic band on their way down and tugging at the fabric just enough to reveal the tip of Hoseok's cock. He leans forward and licks over the hole, then circles the crown, and Hoseok closes his eyes only long enough to let out a soft moan. 

Yoongi continues to tease with his tongue, keeping his fingers resting beneath the fabric of the briefs, with Hoseok's length mostly covered. Hoseok hardens more and more from each ministration until he is leaking and wanting, growing impatient from the teasing but eager to let Yoongi enjoy himself. 

Except Yoongi seems set on making Hoseok ask, and so he finally croaks out low, "Hyung."

With a coy, innocent smile, Yoongi asks, "Yes, Seokie?"

Hoseok bites his inner lip, doing his best not to smile, but, god, he is so pretty; so infuriatingly precious and so, so frustrating. 

"Please," Hoseok asks sweetly.

Yoongi is sweeter still, batting his lashes as he asks, "Please, what?"

Through clenched teeth, Hoseok does his best to stifle a groan. He rubs his fingertips against Yoongi's cheek and says, "Be a good boy and suck my dick."

Yoongi, the devil that he is, takes his time pulling Hoseok's briefs down slow, slow, slow, all the while maintaining eye contact. His smile grows with each centimeter of exposed skin until, through a wide grin, he juts his tongue out and licks up languidly from base to tip. Hoseok lolls his head back, rolling his eyes. Then he fixes his gaze on Yoongi, who continues to stare up at him as he slowly sinks down on Hoseok's length, taking him deep into his throat. 

"That's it," Hoseok praises, placing his hand just behind Yoongi's ear. Yoongi lifts his head, swirling his tongue, and Hoseok groans, "Just like that."

As Yoongi slides back down Hoseok's length, he sucks, hollowing his cheeks and making every inch of him feel sensitive. Hoseok groans, tightening his grip on Yoongi's hair. It goes on like this, slow and deep, with no rush to reach the end and feeling every tiny movement. 

But then Hoseok feels the urge to orgasm come on strong, and he squeezes Yoongi's hair, not with the intent of pulling, but not necessarily trying not to. Yoongi picks up a bit of a pace, still not rushed but eager. He hums, and it vibrates Hoseok, adding a hint of intensification to an already overwhelming experience. 

When Hoseok is on the brink of losing himself completely, he gasps, "Hyung, I'm gonna cum," and Yoongi quickens a bit more. He struggles to keep his eyes from closing, but the sight of Yoongi's petal lips wrapped around him sends him to the stars. 

"Don't stop," Hoseok moans, mouth agape as he breathes heavily and does his best not to crumple to the rug.

Yoongi slows as he sucks to the tip, squeezing his cheeks tight, then forces Hoseok deep into his throat in a rhythm of slow and quick and slow and quick. He slurps and hums, and it is sensory overload, pushing Hoseok to the brink of his sanity. 

"Gonna—" Hoseok chokes on a gasp, feeling too overwhelmed to speak. "Hyung, I'm gonna—" he attempts, but Yoongi puts more and more force into his movements, and it is all Hoseok can do to stay upright. 

He moans pitchy and needy as orgasm roils through him. As he begins to come, Yoongi stops the movement of his head, save for sucking, and uses his hands to stroke Hoseok's length. 

Finally, his knees give out, and he begins to bend. Yoongi releases his mouth but continues to slowly stroke, milking every drop against his lolled out tongue until Hoseok becomes too sensitive and mutters, "Fuck, stop, I'm gonna die."

The hands that release Hoseok's cock reach for his neck and pull him down, bringing him crashing onto Yoongi's lap with his ankles still trapped in the fabric of the briefs, shirt hanging open but slipping from his left shoulder. 

"Hyung," Hoseok gasps, catching his breath. He kisses Yoongi, licks into his mouth and tastes traces of himself. He wraps his arms around Yoongi's neck, kicking out of the briefs to sit more fully on his lap and press him back into the cushions. "Your turn, now."

Yoongi's hands explore Hoseok's back and sides, rubbing in large movements, filling Hoseok with warmth. Eager to please, Hoseok slides down to the rug, onto his knees, and rubs his hands over the thighs of Yoongi's slacks. As he unzips and peels back the fabric, he spots a large wet spot where Yoongi's erection tents his red briefs. 

"Awe, so pent up," Hoseok pouts, tugging at Yoongi's slacks and forcing him to angle his hips upward. Yoongi unbuttons his shirt and lets it hang open, revealing a strip of tummy and chest. "Look how much you're dripping. Poor thing, you must be so turned on."

There is a blaze that burns in Yoongi's eyes, hot and desperate, blowing his pupils wide. He reaches a hand and takes Hoseok gently by the chin, crooking his thumb to tug down on Hoseok's lip. Hoseok turns his head enough to nibble and suck on the tip of Yoongi's thumb while his hands slowly, firmly press against his clothed cock, making him wince and groan. 

"How do you want me?" Hoseok asks. "Short and sweet, or mind-blowingly fast?"

As Yoongi's eyes widen at the latter suggestion, Hoseok grins and sits forward, pulling at the band of Yoongi's briefs and forcing his hips up once more. He pushes the garments down to Yoongi's legs, helps him step out with one foot, taking a moment to rest the garments on the couch, then spreads his soft thighs nice and wide, sitting high and leaning forward. 

With one hand wrapped around Yoongi's cock and the other anchored on his thigh, Hoseok swallows down his length, pushing his hand down until just his finger and thumb circle the base. He quickly sucks upward, slurping pornographically while his hand moves with his head, engulfing and squeezing Yoongi's cock in an upward motion. 

"Oh, fuck," Yoongi groans, spreading his thighs wider. 

Hoseok repeats the movement again and again, leaking drool and precum from the sides of his mouth and coating his chin. He sucks hard and fast and even twists his palm on the upstrokes, creating a black hole of suction and spit with his hand. 

It takes no time at all for Yoongi to begin writhing and panting, his deep, raspy moans cut short with bursts of air. His body sways and heaves with pleasure, and his hips begin to buck in small but quick movements, following Hoseok's rhythm. 

"Seok, I'm so close," he manages to grit out between sobs, voice wrecked as his body trembles. 

Hoseok speeds up, becoming dizzy but elated, so eager to make Yoongi feel good. He is spurred on by Yoongi gripping his hair and tugging at the strands, and he moans and whimpers around Yoongi as best as he can in order to heighten the sensation. 

With only the final warning of, "Fuck, I'm—" Yoongi's hips stall and then buck hard, and he sprays his release deep into Hoseok's throat – so deep that he nearly gags. 

Hoseok gasps as he comes up for air, lolling his tongue out and stroking Yoongi's length with his hand. Hot ropes of cum cover Hoseok's mouth, dripping from his lips, and he grins like a madman at the sight of Yoongi covered in sweat and panting, watching him with an expression of fucked out reverence. 

"Wow," Yoongi manages to rasp between deep breaths. 

Hoseok closes his mouth, smile still wide, and swallows Yoongi's sticky tangy-sweet release before licking the rest off his lips. Yoongi claws at him, gripping his arms and doing his best attempt to yank him onto the couch despite seeming drained of energy. 

"Let me guess," Hoseok says as he settles on Yoongi's lap, his warm, sweat-slicked skin against Hoseok's bare ass and thighs. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow, and Hoseok leans close, asking against his lips, "Nobody has ever made you feel this way before?"

He leans in to kiss Yoongi, who scrunches his face in mock petulance and begins to assault Hoseok's ribs with his fingertips. It tickles and slightly hurts, overwhelming him as he begins to shout and wiggle in Yoongi's hold, desperate to get away but too unable to. 

The two of them wind out flopped down on the couch, nose to nose as Yoongi's fingers slow to a stop and he wraps his arms around Hoseok, hugging him close. Hoseok is still somewhat laughing, mostly gasping for air, and as he settles, he inches down the couch until his head rests below Yoongi's chin. 

"Nap time," Hoseok declares, and Yoongi nods, digging his chin into the top of his head. Hoseok feels warm and cold at the same time, wearing a shirt on his top half that has managed to ride up and naked from the ribs down. "Need a blanket." 

Yoongi reaches up and then yanks down, engulfing Hoseok in soft warmth that matches the color of the couch. He wants to remark how funny it is that everything in the apartment is so dim and black that he had no idea there even was a blanket there, but he finds that he is suddenly exhausted and disinterested in forming his thoughts into coherent sentences. 

The darkness engulfs him, with the sun shining in through the mesh grey curtains, and Hoseok takes in a deep breath of musk and sweat, and, with a smile, drifts off to sleep. 

* * *

The remainder of Sunday is spent in pajamas. They order falafel sandwiches for delivery and watch an episode of a baking reality show. Night approaches quickly and Hoseok remains in a liminal space between wakefulness and sleep, feeling too relaxed to do much of anything, but also too antsy to do nothing. 

By ten, Yoongi is standing and stretching with a deep yawn. He takes stock of the mess of boxes, but decides he still has no interest in dealing with it, muttering, "This week."

There is a part of Hoseok that thinks it would be best if he returns home. He wants to use his own facial cleansers, and he also does not want to be seen going into M with Yoongi tomorrow morning. But this weekend, which started out poorly and chaotic, has recovered into something so perfect that he feels worried that one word could ruin anything. 

It seems Yoongi can sense that something is bothering him, however, so when he tugs on Hoseok's hand, in which his own is clasped, and asks, "What is it?" Hoseok decides that it is time, once more, to be open and honest.

"I think I should go home soon," he says, voice soft and worried. 

Yoongi nods. "Alright. Whenever you're ready."

His straightforward response actually takes Hoseok by surprise, and he decides to tamp down his dreadful thoughts with playfulness. "Wow, so eager to get rid of me already, are you?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes and shakes his head, assuaging some of Hoseok's fears. "This apartment has actually felt lived in with you here."

Hoseok scoffs despite how warm and fuzzy he feels inside. "Yeah, well maybe if you added a splash of color and a piece of artwork on the walls, it would feel like a real home."

With his free hand outstretched toward the colorful pile of bags and boxes, Yoongi says, "There's plenty of color right there!" causing Hoseok to collapse into him with laughter. 

They take their time getting off the couch, groaning with stiff limbs. Hoseok wraps his arms around Yoongi's hips and tilts his head to look into his eyes. 

"Thanks for the fun weekend, hyung."

Yoongi kisses the tip of Hoseok's nose, making him grin. Then their lips press together, and Hoseok pulls Yoongi as close to him as he possibly can. They kiss slow and soft, breathing one another in, then part with a smile. 

"I'm stealing these clothes," Hoseok says softly. "Don't want to put mine back on."

Yoongi nods. "Leave the garments here. I'll launder them."

"Awe," Hoseok coos, leaning in for another kiss. "Thanks, babe."

It is so minute – so very slight that it is nearly imperceptible, but Yoongi freezes. Or, perhaps, he flinches. It sends Hoseok's mind into a downward spiral, and he blinks rapidly, worried he has just ruined everything. 

"Shit, sorry," he says through a laugh that is stripped of all mirth. "It slipped out. I didn't mean—"

"Seok," Yoongi says, placing both palms on Hoseok's cheeks. Hoseok knows he looks crazed with wide, worried eyes, which is only confirmed when Yoongi breaks into a smile. "Don't panic. It's fine. It's…a little weird. Pet names are something I don't usually do."

Hoseok shakes his head as best as he can between Yoongi palms, eyes welling with tears. "It won't happen again. I'm sorry."

"Hoseok," Yoongi says firmly. His smile fades, and his gaze is downcast. "It's fine. I'm not grossed out. I just need to get used to it, okay?"

"Okay," he mutters, nodding, heart pounding wildly. 

Yoongi leans in for a kiss, which Hoseok reciprocates slowly. Then he brushes his fingertip along Hoseok's hairline over his ears and gently cradles his head. "I did a number on you, huh?"

Sadness washes over Hoseok, and his head begins to droop. He does not want to admit to Yoongi's past behavior having affected him this way, but there is no denying it. 

"I'm sorry," Yoongi says, leaning close. They kiss softly, but there is regret behind it that is palpable in every movement. 

Yoongi holds Hoseok's hand as they hobble into their shoes, and continues to hold it on the elevator ride and through the lobby of his building. He only lets go once he has opened Hoseok's door and Hoseok takes a seat, but once they are driving in the direction of Hoseok's apartment, Yoongi's palm is enclosed on Hoseok's hand, fingers lazily parted to accommodate each other. 

They walk to Hoseok's door in silence, and when Hoseok steps inside, holding the door open to invite Yoongi, they quietly close and lean into it, with Hoseok's head on Yoongi's shoulder. So much is left unsaid, swirling inside and between and around them. But Hoseok finds he would rather have some time to think and gather his myriad thoughts before he attempts to voice them. 

He feels a wistful blend of melancholy and hope as he kisses Yoongi goodnight and tells him to drive safe. They promise to see one another in the morning and manage to exchange smiles before Yoongi is gone and Hoseok is left to stand with one hand on the doorknob and the other pressed against the door. He rests his forehead against the cool wood and closes his eyes, standing a moment while all the events and feelings crest over him in waves. 

Then he goes through his nightly routine and curls onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow and picking up hints of Yoongi from his borrowed clothing. He tells himself that things are okay and that he is allowed to rest. And, eventually, he drifts. 

* * *

Monday morning is hectic from the moment Hoseok walks in the door. He is ushered immediately into hair and makeup where Namjoon outfits him from the racks of clothing he and Yoongi purchased on Saturday. He barely comprehends what goes onto his body – denim, loose-fitting pants; yellow, blue, and black tight mesh shirt; possibly a belt – his mind is so focused on his task for the day that he is too busy freaking out to clearly see his own reflection. 

Sunmi is the first to enter, and Namjoon stands aside, watching as Hoseok begins to pick out pieces for her. She is eager and playful, willing to wear absolutely anything he suggests. He chooses a black skirt that has a blue and orange oil slick pattern, with a cropped spaghetti strap tank and a loose-fit bright orange long sleeve knit top with big round holes. 

Her hair is no longer orange but now a deep black with blue tints, and, upon Hoseok's recommendation, Namjoon divides her hair into two long pigtails on the top of her head and divides each tail into several braids, tying the ends off with colorful bands. He paints bright blue flame-style designs on her eyelids and lines her lips in blue that fades to her natural lip color with gloss applied atop. 

Sunmi shrieks with joy and praise, and then she is off to stand in front of Yoongi's camera while three more models enter, all juniors in their craft and working at M for the first time. Hoseok dresses them in similar styles, alternating loose pants with tight tops and tight bottoms with loose tops. Their hair is done in similar spiky, braided, messy styles, with colorful bands and butterfly clips, and then they are sent, along with Hoseok – whose eyes are painted to match Sunmi but in orange, with glossy black lips –  to model as a group. 

Yoongi is at the top of his game, holding two film cameras around his neck and one digital in his hand, juggling his devices and giving orders with a smile. He and Namjoon pose the junior models around the outskirts or in the back with Sunmi and Hoseok as their focal point. They hold onto skateboards and boomboxes, and even bring in a trampoline to jump on. Periodically, Namjoon touches up hair and makeup, and then they are all ushered into the back, where Hoseok selects all new outfits for them. 

Once it is time for lunch, Hoseok collapses into the makeup chair, exhausted. He tells the others to go ahead and allows himself to bask in the events of the morning. The room is empty and strewn with clothing, and once he has caught his breath, he feels restless and begins to pick up each clothing item that has been draped over this chair and the rack, and places them back onto hangers. 

The door to the dressing room bursts open, and all peace is lost as Seokjin shouts to the heavens so loud and rapidly that it takes Hoseok a moment to figure out what he is saying. 

"We need to discuss figures and draw up a new contact!"

Hoseok heavy-blinks, then says, "Sorry, slow down. What?"

With a deep, pained, exasperated sigh, Seokjin screws up his face. "Yah, Hoseokah, you know I hate repeating myself!"

As it turns out, this is not a fact about Seokjin that Hoseok has known. However, it is completely unsurprising.

He nods, apologetic as he says, "I promise to do better next time. Please, what did you just say?"

Seokjin grins, then fully enters the room and closes the door behind him. "Yoongi and Namjoon were blown away by your performance earlier." There it is again. That phrase: blown away. "They said you were a natural. Namjoon wants you outfitting models moving forward, and he said you can even offer advice on hair and makeup."

Hoseok swallows thickly and nods. "Oh. Okay."

"Is that something you want?" Seokjin asks, eyes widening. 

Hoseok nods, but he feels nervous. What if today was a fluke? What if he only has an eye for playful outfits but then completely fails when something more formal or astute comes in?

"I had fun," he admits, weighing his thoughts. "But what if I don't do well in the future?"

"Nonsense," Seokjin barks, waving a hand between them as if batting away an unwanted insect. "You will be amazing. And if you ever have doubts or uncertainties, Namjoon will be right here to assist."

Hoseok supposes that is true. It is not as if he is replacing Namjoon. Rather, he would be joining him. Warmth fills Hoseok's chest at the realization that he and Joon Baboon will be a team, and he smiles wide, nodding. 

"Alright," he says, holding out his hand. "I'll do it." 

Seokjin grimaces at Hoseok's outstretched hand but takes it in both of his, anyway, giving it a shake with a slight bow of his head, which Hoseok returns emphatically, bending at the hips. 

"You know that a handshake isn't binding, yes?" Seokjin asks. 

"Yes," Hoseok says, chuckling and remembering a similar interaction with Yoongi not so long ago. "I'm just excited."

"Good!" Seokjin shouts, clapping his hands. "Now get to lunch. Stop working and take a break. The clothing will be here when you are nourished and rested."

Hoseok feels too energetic to rest, but he accepts anyway. As Seokjin leaves the room and heads toward the front doors, Hoseok steps out and goes another direction. Yes, he is hungry and tired. But he is also eager to see someone else. He takes a right and walks past everyone who is still working, glad when a certain someone is nowhere to be seen, and makes his way up the stairs to the dark office that overlooks the studio. 

* * *

The routine for the rest of the week is the same. Hoseok arrives early, gets himself dressed in something he and Namjoon choose, and then they ready Sunmi, who goes out to shoot individual photos while the juniors come in to get ready. Group photos commence, and Yoongi shoots with wide angle lenses to capture the look of the late 90s and early 00s when everything was colorfully captured with a bit of a fisheye, and then Hoseok stays behind to do solo photos while everyone else breaks for lunch. 

Once he is finished, Hoseok grabs a quick snack and a bottle of water and excuses himself to look over the photos with the boss. Behind the closed, locked door, they kiss and touch and occasionally exchange handjobs. Hoseok has to be careful not to smear his makeup too much for fear of being found out, until finally, he opts to just remove the makeup altogether before making his climb up the stairs. 

There is something so incredible about the rush Hoseok feels from cuming on Yoongi's palm, or better, on Yoongi's pretty face moments after a job well done in the studio, and as the days pass, he finds himself getting excited the moment they are done shooting for the morning, before he even has a chance to clean his face and grab refreshments. 

Friday evening is a bit different, however. As the two of them catch their breath and straighten out their clothing, there is a firm knock on Yoongi's door. 

"It's Seokjin," Yoongi says assuredly as he checks his hair and dabs the sweat from his brow. Then he walks over just as the knocking returns and opens the door. 

Seokjin is poised to yell about being left waiting – Hoseok can see it in his demeanor – but then he spots Hoseok sitting beside Yoongi's desk in a chair that has been pulled up so he can view the monitor, and he relaxes. 

"Yoongichi, I know this is last minute, but I am going to need you to take charge of next week's trip."

Hoseok glances between Yoongi and Seokjin and is disappointed to find Yoongi's expression is stony and unchanged – impossible to read. He merely nods at the news. 

"Minho's wife is ill and he needs to stay home with her to take care of the kids," Seokjin says, pulling a face that suggests having a wife and kids must be a real nuisance. "I would recommend taking this one with you—" Seokjin jerks his head in Hoseok's direction, "—to give him experience with scouting and shopping, but I think Namjoon will need all the help he can get while you are away." 

Yoongi simply nods and agrees, and when Seokjin states he will send Yoongi the itinerary and ticket information immediately, he thanks Seokjin and waits for the door to close. 

Only when the door is closed does Yoongi walk to one of the large leather chairs and plop down with a sigh. He pats his thigh, muttering, "Come here," but he does not smile.

Hoseok shuffles over quickly and sits on Yoongi's lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders while the other drapes over his middle. Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's hand and holds it in their laps. 

"Tomorrow afternoon, it seems, I will be flying to Japan," Yoongi says with a slight frown, eyes on their conjoined hands. He rubs at Hoseok's knuckles with his thumb. "We are working with some new street brand crews and our magazine has been invited to personally select some outfits. We have someone on staff who is in charge of these field trips, but as you have heard, his wife has fallen ill."

Hoseok nods, waiting for more information. 

"I will return briefly on Tuesday, but, depending on Minho's availability, I may need to fulfill his duties and fly out Wednesday morning to Paris. We are scouting hotels and shooting locations ahead of time, before everything can be bought up in anticipation for Fashion Week."

"Oh," Hoseok says. "Wow."

Yoongi nods, looking up at Hoseok with a forlorn smile. "It's a shame you can't come. This type of experience would be perfect for your position. But, since you are new at all of this, and Namjoon will have a gaggle of juniors on his hands, Seokjin seems to think it is best that you stay here. And…as much as I hate to say so," Yoongi lifts Hoseok's hand to his mouth and rubs his knuckles against his bottom lip, "I would have to agree."

"How long?" Hoseok asks.

Yoongi sighs. "I likely won't be back until the end of the week. Possibly the weekend."

Hoseok is filled with sadness, but also excitement. He looks forward to seeing everything Yoongi returns with and already wants to hear all about Paris. 

"Alright," Hoseok says, kissing Yoongi on the nose. They remain sitting in silence. 

Yoongi invites Hoseok to stay over at his place and prepares a hearty meal of kimchi soup with rice, glass noodles, and various store-bought kimchi on the side. They eat at Yoongi's kitchen island, enjoying a glass of white wine, and then Yoongi tugs Hoseok into the bathroom, stripping the two of them down and leaving a trail of undergarments on the way to the tub. 

They sit in a hot bath with Yoongi in the back and Hoseok in the front, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles. The sounds of moans and gasps, as well as water sloshing and dripping to the floor, echo off the tile as Yoongi strokes Hoseok with one hand and holds onto his throat with the other. 

In the shower, rinsing off the bathwater, Hoseok presses Yoongi against the cool tile wall, clasping Yoongi's palms over his head with one hand while he strokes him with the other. Yoongi's moans echo through the small space, and they are left gasping for breath and covered in sweat as the glass walls of the shower fog to opaqueness. 

* * *

Hoseok is clingy from the moment he wakes up. He laments having to say goodbye to Yoongi for a week. Japan is easy to manage, but Paris is seven hours behind, which is going to put a strain on them keeping in touch. 

He helps Yoongi pack a suitcase and organize suits into three garment bags. They have a small, quiet breakfast, and by 1:00, Seokjin is out front waiting to take Yoongi to the airport. He seems not at all surprised to find Hoseok is present, and as they both clamber into the backseat of the SUV, Seokjin puts on his best chauffeur impression, calling them gentlemen while tipping an imaginary hat and offering them complimentary champagne and mints that do not exist. Seokjin drives onto the tarmac near a small white private jet and then gets out to help with Yoongi's luggage. Although Yoongi wears a mask and sunglasses, he pulls the mask down to give Hoseok a long, slow kiss. 

"I should see you Tuesday," he says, offering a smile, which Hoseok returns. 

Hoseok holds back tears. "Safe travels, hyung."

Once Yoongi is on the aircraft and the door is closed behind him, Hoseok shuffles over to Seokjin's vehicle and climbs into the front seat. He buckles his seatbelt and attempts not to feel sad, but it is always difficult for Hoseok to say goodbye to someone, even if it is just temporary. 

Seokjin gets into the vehicle, puts on his seatbelt, and presses the ignition start button. Then, before putting it into drive, he turns to Hoseok and says, "I see you two have finally talked things out."

Hoseok feels his cheeks go red, and Seokjin chuckles. "We have," is all Hoseok can say, eyes glued to the jet that carries Yoongi.

"Good," Seokjin says, and he begins to drive. They exit the airport and turn onto the road, and he says, "I was hoping for this sort of outcome. I like the two of you together."

Hoseok turns to Seokjin, tears in his eyes. He wants to thank him, but he is too afraid to get choked up.

"Just don't fuck it up," Seokjin says in a mock-warning tone. "And don't let him fuck it up, either."

Hoseok laughs, sobbing a bit as he begins to cry. He wipes at his eyes and turns his gaze to the window, watching as the city ahead inches closer bit by bit. "I'll try not to."

* * *

At a little after 4, Yoongi calls to let Hoseok know that he has landed safely. They talk a bit, but then Yoongi apologizes for having to meet with the designers.

"I'll call tonight," Yoongi says. "Unless you'll be out."

Hoseok had not considered going out with his friends, and he hums then says, "I might be. I'll let you know."

Less than an hour later, Jeongguk is putting out the feelers for a club night, and by 8, they are piled into Hoseok's bedroom, sifting through his designer clothing and getting ready. 

Hoseok wears a simple black shirt tucked into white shorts and chunky black boots, with a black choker, black eyeliner, and messy hair. The other three are in an array of clothing, Taehyung choosing a loose-fit burgundy suit with matching tank, Jimin in a grey suit and slacks with no shirt underneath, and Jeongguk in loose black jeans with rainbow splotches, a matching denim jacket, and a black tank.

They chug a couple bottles of soju and then head out into the night, walking to their usual spot rather than the one that recently opened, hoping that the new club pulls a bunch of the clubgoers to make their spot less crowded. To their delight, their club is less packed, though still quite busy, and they take strawberry vodka shots and head for the dancefloor. While the three friends grind, Hoseok is off in his own little world. Occasionally, he feels the touch of someone eager to pull him close to dance, and he lets them down gently, migrating close enough to his friends to show he is not alone. He is having a good night, but he feels an exhaustion that seems to seep down into his bones. The week was busy and exciting, and now that he has had a chance away from the studio, he longs to go to sleep. 

It is not even midnight when Hoseok decides to call it a night. He checks his phone to see that he has no missed messages or missed calls, and he attempts to call Yoongi but gets no answer. The walk to his place is rather quick. Hoseok is eager to strip, shower, and sleep. Once in his apartment, he heads straight for the bedroom and peels out of his clothing. He hobbles into the shower and washes up. Once out of the shower, he applies his face creams, then he returns to his room in search of his phone, finding it in the pocket of his shorts. 

There is one missed call from Yoongi, and Hoseok groans, frustrated that he did not hear it ring. He calls back and after three rings, hears a very groggy, possibly intoxicated, "Hey, Seok."

Hoseok laughs. "Long night?"

Yoongi hums in response. There is a pause, then he says, "I think it was their mission to drink me under the table." He definitely sounds drunk.

"Did they win?" Hoseok asks, making his way to his bed nude. He sits on the edge and listens to Yoongi's tired breathing, which is mostly comprised of groans and sighs.

"No," Yoongi says sharply, then mutters, "should've let them."

Hoseok chuckles. "Have some water and don't sleep in your suit."

A gruff "Mmhmm" responds. 

"Get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon."

There is a muttering of words, but Hoseok cannot parse them. He continues to listen until he surmises that Yoongi's phone rests on his chest, stomach, or hotel bed, and then he hangs up.

* * *

Sunday morning, Hoseok treats the boys to brunch. They pick similar Dior suits and walk arm in arm, Taehyung and Jeongguk in the lead, with Hoseok and Jimin trailing behind. He is hesitant when they are all seated and holding onto their flutes of mimosa to tell everyone about his weekend. But when he does, smile tugging at his lips, they all cheer and whoop and raise a toast wishing Hoseok well. 

Once the commotion has settled, Jeongguk leans over the table to stage whisper, "I've been texting with Namjoon-hyung," and Hoseok gasps dramatically, dropping his metal utensils in a clatter to raise his hands to his face. 

"Texting or sexting?" he asks in a similar whisper shout. 

When Jeongguk only winks in response, Hoseok has to hold in a scream. 

For the remainder of the day, Hoseok takes care of chores, laundering his clothing in the washer that sits tucked away in his bathroom and then hanging the items to dry over racks, while compiling clothing to take to the dry cleaner – a task that he intends to put off for a while. He sweeps and dusts, then takes a nap on the couch.

When he wakes up, he notices a text from Yoongi, which he quickly replies to after changing Yoongi's name in his contacts.

Magic Min Sorry for the silence today. Been busy. Will call later if I can.

Hoseok I've been cleaning and napping all day, so you haven't missed much.

As Hoseok makes his way into the kitchen to make a packet of ramen, his phone buzzes once more. He grabs a pot and holds it under the tap, eyeballing the correct amount of water, then puts it on the stove and turns on the burner. Finally, he checks his phone. 

Magic Min I have a moment before I'm expected out. Are you free?

Hoseok calls rather than texts, and Yoongi answers quickly. 

"There you are."

Hoseok smiles, busying his hands with opening the ramen packet while waiting for the water to boil. "Here I am."

"How has your weekend been?"

Hoseok shrugs, then twists about, eyeing his apartment. Empty, he thinks. Lonely. "Not too eventful. Went to the club with the boys last night, then treated them to brunch this morning."

"Was I imagining it, or did we talk last night?" Yoongi asks, voice low and semi-conspiratorial. Hoseok wonders whether he is alone. 

"We did," he says through a laugh. "You sounded pretty plastered."

Yoongi hums then sighs. "Business deals with Japanese clients always become long nights at the hostess bars. You simply cannot tell these men no, even after they have run an impressive tab on the champagne." 

Hoseok's heart pounds at the thought of Yoongi, dapper in his suit with his wavy hair framing his face, accepting drinks from a beautiful hostess. 

"I swear," Yoongi continues, "it seems like the girls drink more of our champagne than we do. But I would probably die of alcohol poisoning if they didn't."

All Hoseok can say in response is, "Hmm." He does not want to seem jealous or upset, but there is a part of him that is certainly, at the very least, uncomfortable. 

"Don't worry, Seokah," Yoongi says sweetly, "it's standard protocol. Like a hoesik but flashier."

"Alright," Hoseok says, not entirely convinced. His water is beginning to bubble, but he is suddenly unsure that he feels hungry. 

There is a pause, then Yoongi asks, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Hoseok says, swallowing thickly. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised about a hostess bar."

"I am not interested in those girls," Yoongi insists. 

"I know," Hoseok utters. 

Yoongi's voice softens. "But do you?" Hoseok is unsure what to say. "Seokah, even Minho, who is married with children goes to these things. And when you come with me on the next business trip, you will be subjected to it, as well."

Hoseok rolls his eyes and cracks a smile. Ordinarily, he would find a hostess club to be charming, maybe even a little exciting. He knows that it is just his nerves in a stir that is causing him to feel so uncertain.

"Alright, well, don't get too drunk, hyung."

Yoongi chuckles. "You know I am powerless to make that promise. But I can attempt to call when I am back to the hotel, provided I have the wherewithal."

"Sounds good," Hoseok says, watching his pot of water boil. "Have fun."

"Talk to you later, Seok."

Hoseok frowns. "Bye."

* * *

When his alarm blares on Monday morning, Hoseok is not quite ready to face the day. Or the week, for that matter. He had not heard from Yoongi the night before, and as he checks his phone, he realizes that he must have slept through two calls about an hour after he went to bed. There is no voicemail or text, and Hoseok surmises that Yoongi must have passed out shortly after, and he sends a text before getting ready for work.

Hoseok Sorry I missed you, hyung. Crashed about an hour before you called.

Hoseok showers, applies moisturizers, and wears a simple black Dior suit, anticipating he will be changing into something flashier once he arrives to work. He detours to the café and then takes a cab to the studio, making it two steps inside before his phone begins to ring. Hoseok really needs to add a contact photo for Yoongi. The black screen with white letters is so not cute. 

Holding his coffee in one hand, Hoseok accepts the call, making his way to the makeup room. He answers with a chipper, "Yes, boss?"

Yoongi chuckles. "At work, already?"

Affronted, Hoseok says, "Yes! You know that I am always on time!"

"Good," Yoongi says. "Sorry I didn't catch you sooner, but I wanted to be sure to tell you I hope you have a good day."

Hoseok beams, chest filling with warmth. "You are so gay for me," he mutters under his breath.

Yoongi laughs. "See you tomorrow? Seokjin will be picking me up from the airport around noon, and then I thought we could have lunch and sort through the new clothing at the studio."

"Sure," Hoseok says as he sets his coffee and purse down on the far end of the makeup counter. Namjoon glances up and opens his mouth as if to say hi but must realize Hoseok is on the phone, and he furrows his brow. "Sounds fun. How many pieces are you bringing back?"

At the realization that Hoseok must be talking to Yoongi, Namjoon perks up again. 

"Too many," Yoongi says. He sounds worn out. "Everything here is nearly taken care of and I should be free of any more hostess club outings. Just need to double check the inventory, sign some paperwork, and get an early night's sleep."

Hoseok hums, glad that Yoongi will get some rest but impatient to hear about the clothing.

"Tell Namjoon to look forward to clothing, shoes, handbags, and even some jewelry pieces."

Hoseok winks at Namjoon and says, "Will do," which seems to only make Namjoon antsy.

"Alright, we both have work to do. Have a good day, Seok."

Hoseok smiles. "You too, hyung."

Namjoon is on the edge of his seat, eager for Hoseok to relay his message. And as he does so, it begins to set in a little deeper that he is more than just a model. Especially as Sunmi sticks her head in and asks whether they are ready for her. 

They pick out something funky and vibrant. Once her hair and makeup is ready, Seokjin stands in partially for Yoongi, overseeing Sunmi's poses while also directing the photographer. All of the photos taken while Yoongi is out of town will be backups in case they need more variety in the ads or something with different colorways than previous shoots. All in all, Hoseok feels good. 

* * *

Tuesday morning in the studio is strange. It is so quiet that when Hoseok walks in, it feels as if all the life had been sucked out through an airlock and is now floating in space, leaving him completely and totally alone. 

Hoseok had been instructed to come in by 11 to help Namjoon get ready for the new clothing pieces. He makes his way to the makeup room, where Namjoon sits on his phone, empty metal racks ready in anticipation for Yoongi's arrival; it seems as if he has already taken care of it by himself. 

"Well, now what am I supposed to do?" Hoseok asks, setting down his coffee and purse the way he always does. 

Namjoon asks, "Hmm?" looking up from his phone. 

Hoseok pouts. "You already did everything."

"Ah," Namjoon says, "yeah, sorry. I wasn't sure when you'd be coming in and I hate sitting around when there is work to be done."

Hoseok glances around for a door to some kind of storage room, then he asks, "Where do they even go?"

At this, Namjoon perks up. "Oh my god. Have you never been inside the storehouse?"

"Storehouse?" Hoseok gasps, not sure whether he should feel excited for what is to come or insulted that this is the first time he is hearing of such a curious, fantastic place. 

Namjoon hops down from his chair and quickly walks past Hoseok, exiting the room in a gust of black fabric and musky cologne. Hoseok leaves his purse and coffee behind and scurries along, following Namjoon through the length of the studio, under the staircase that leads to Yoongi's office. 

There is a black door hidden just below the steps that Hoseok has never noticed before with a small metal keypad. Namjoon enters a series of numbers, opens the door, and instantly, Hoseok is hit with cool air. Fluorescent lights flick on and Hoseok takes in a deep, excited breath.

In a massive storeroom are rows upon rows – racks upon racks – of designer clothing. He freezes in the doorway, uncertain how to approach such beauty and wonder. 

"Go on in," Namjoon urges, giving Hoseok a little shove. 

Hoseok feels like a kid entering Lotte World for the first time. He approaches racks of Dior and Louis Vuitton outfits that either didn't make the cut for his shoots, were duplicates, or were worn by junior models who, he surmises, do not get the privilege of taking clothing home. Then he walks deeper, to the end of the row and around to the next one, discovering an amalgamation of brands, styles, colors, and fabrics. 

"They're all in the order of shoot up to a certain point, and then they are organized by brand," Namjoon informs as he catches up to Hoseok. "It's…kind of a mess. There isn't really anyone who has the time or energy to organize this space the way it deserves."

As if hoping to be called on in class, Hoseok's hand shoots straight up. Namjoon chuckles, but he says nothing. 

"I can do it." 

Namjoon shakes his head in a way that suggests that really, it is far too much trouble. 

"I mean it. First of all, these garments are all just sitting here. We should at least do something with them. It feels…I don't know…" Hoseok runs his hands along fabrics, feeling cotton, wool, and a variety of blends against his fingertips. He utters the word "wasteful" softly, more to himself than to Namjoon. 

"We should definitely do something with all of this," Namjoon agrees. "I hate to see it just sitting here. And if you really want to organize this space, I know Yoongi-hyung and Seokjin-hyung would be very appreciative."

Hoseok's heart aches at the sight of so many beautiful garments. Even the ugly ones he would like to do something for. Some kind of recycling program. The last thing the magazine really needs is more money, but it could be fun to have a sale of sorts. 

"I have the perfect idea," Hoseok announces. When Namjoon raises his eyebrows, Hoseok lifts his hands and parts them as if motioning to a marquee sign. "Fashion show and auction."

Namjoon's eyes widen and he nods. "Pitch it to the guys today."

"I know some extra models, should we need some," Hoseok says with a wink, and Namjoon begins to blush. He wants to bring up Jeongguk so badly, but he also wants Namjoon to be the one to do it first. 

Hoseok continues walking through the space, making a mental note of the various brands and how they may look at an auction show. He will need to mix and match pieces while keeping some sets complete, and he cannot pull out all of the best items first; there is no way they will be able to offload everything in one event. 

That is…if the men even go for it. The more Hoseok thinks about it, the less certain he becomes. He knows that it is a good idea, but it is rare for the wealthy to care about global impact and the footprint that the fashion industry causes. Still, he cannot stand idly by and let all these gorgeous pieces rot. 

Hoseok is in the dead center of the storehouse, holding a vintage woolen plaid Alexander McQueen skirt to his hips, when he hears footsteps approaching. He had assumed Namjoon lost interest in watching him peruse long ago, and he turns excitedly to announce how elegant this piece is, but his words die in his throat at the sight of Yoongi standing before him. 

"There you are," Yoongi says with a grin. He wears a long wool jacket with a white scarf cascading over his shoulders, a black shirt, and black slacks. His hair is slick today, not wavy, and tucked behind his ears.

Hoseok nearly drops the skirt. He fumbles to get it back onto the rack, getting the hanger stuck sideways against another hanger in his haste. Once the garment is back where it belongs, Yoongi is closer, and Hoseok spins and barrels into him, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's ribs, causing him to let out a deep oof.

"Here I am," Hoseok mutters softly, breathing in Yoongi's scent. 

Yoongi chuckles. "I was barely away for a few days."

"Shut up," Hoseok says as he squeezes harder. "Don't act like you didn't miss me."

As they pull out of the hug, Yoongi brightly says, "Miss you? Please. I didn't simply miss you, Hoseokah. I picked out every single piece specifically with you in mind. Want to see?"

Hoseok malfunctions, struggling to compute Yoongi's words, and he stands slack-jawed for a moment, coming out of his daze once Yoongi begins to chuckle. This man really does a number to Hoseok's sanity and he is so open and willing to allow it to happen. 

"Yes," he finally says, heart pounding with excitement and joy and anticipation and…possible…other…deep and scary feeling that he does not want to speak into the world just yet. 

Yoongi leads them out of the storehouse and into the main studio. where Seokjin and Namjoon are beginning to unbox items. With nobody else in the building, Hoseok has the urge to hold Yoongi's hand or stand a little too close, but he does his best not to for the sake of not getting too comfortable in that way here in this space. 

As they approach the mountain that is taller even than what they unpacked in Yoongi's apartment days ago, Seokjin runs a hand through his short, dark hair and says, "We really need to start doing something with the old clothing."

Namjoon perks up and looks to Hoseok with wide eyes that ask whether Hoseok would like to share his idea, and Hoseok clams up. Unfortunately for him, Seokjin has clocked Namjoon's behavior and looks to Hoseok expectantly. 

"Is this telepathic communication between you two in some way a response to my remark?" Seokjin asks. 

Hoseok sighs, then takes a deep breath and says, "Yes," letting the breath out. With all eyes on him, his palms begin to sweat, and he rubs his hands down the front of his slacks. "I thought that perhaps we could offload some pieces in an auction," he begins, glancing around. Yoongi shifts his weight toward Hoseok, quirking an eyebrow, and Seokjin crosses his arms over his chest. "Maybe do a fashion show, like a runway event? It could be fun."

Yoongi nods. "That could be fun. Perhaps we could donate the proceeds to charity."

Hoseok hadn't thought of that. His eyes well with tears and he feels so relieved and so happy. He nods emphatically and says, "Yes! Of course. That's a great idea."

Seokjin gives a single curt nod, only smiling the barest amount. "I like the way you think, Hoseokah," he says, making Hoseok swoon from the term of endearment. 

"Namjoon helped me come up with the idea," Hoseok adds, holding his chin high. Although it is not entirely true, he hates the thought of leaving anyone out. 

Seokjin nods once more and says, "Well, we should bring in some more seasoned models. We have worked with the Jeon boy once before and liked his look. Maybe he would want to come back."

"We could try out those other two friends of yours, as well," Yoongi adds. "They model, yes?"

"Yes," Hoseok says quickly, full of hope. 

Yoongi nods. "Good. We'll iron out the details once this shoot—" he motions toward the new pile of clothing, "—is wrapped up. Once we have a schedule set, we can discuss it with your friends."

Unable to contain his joy, Hoseok throws his arms around Yoongi's neck in an embrace that is too brief for Yoongi to be able to reciprocate. Then he turns to Seokjin, who very stiffly holds out one hand to shake, which Hoseok gladly takes in both of his, bowing his head. 

Seokjin departs, and Hoseok and Namjoon get to work unpacking the items while Yoongi excuses himself to his office. Hoseok enjoys bantering and brainstorming with Namjoon, and although it takes over an hour to complete the task of sorting the garments, shoes, and handbags, he has a lot of fun. The styles are subdued and professional, similar to the Dior and Louis Vuitton outfits, but there are hints of Japanese street styles. With only jewelry left to unpack, they opt to break for lunch. Namjoon excuses himself to leave the building, so Hoseok makes his way up to Yoongi's office. When he knocks on the door, his heart begins to pound. He hopes he is not interrupting anything. 

The door swings open, and Hoseok is greeted with a wide smile. "Finally," Yoongi says as he steps back only enough to allow Hoseok to enter. 

"Oh?" Hoseok asks, but it is the only sound he is able to get out before he is pressing against the closing door with Yoongi's mouth on his. 

Yoongi's hands are hasty in their movements, running the expanse of Hoseok's ribs, from his hips to his chest. He paws at Hoseok eagerly, palms grazing clothed nipples on their journey to his neck, making Hoseok gasp. And his kiss is demanding, licking and prodding as if desperate to search and taste. 

"How long do we have?" Yoongi asks, and Hoseok chuckles, which falls to a groan as Yoongi sucks his lip between his teeth. 

"Under thirty minutes," Hoseok groans, "we just broke for lunch but we're not taking the full hour today."

Yoongi locks his door and turns away to his desk, leaving Hoseok feeling dazed. He begins to undress quickly, draping his clothing over the large chair before his desk.

"Please," Yoongi says, undoing his pants. 

Hoseok nods and approaches, quickly discarding his slate grey ensemble of jacket, tank, and slacks. They stand in briefs and socks before Yoongi's desk and Yoongi grabs Hoseok by the waist and pulls him close. 

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I'm already stretched," he rasps. "Already ready, if you will have me."

Hoseok gasps and reaches around Yoongi, prodding between his clothed cheeks and finding a hard circle – the end of an anal plug. 

"Turn around," Hoseok demands, and Yoongi does so, palms down on the top of his desk. "Good boy," he coos as his fingernails gently scratch down the expanse of Yoongi's back, then hook into the band of his briefs. 

He yanks the fabric down, in awe of the way Yoongi's butt jiggles, and reaches with both hands to squeeze his cheeks. He has never fully worshiped this ass the way he needs to and now is not the time. Yoongi wears a simple metal plug, and as Hoseok spreads his cheeks, he imagines how pretty he would look with one that has a colorful rhinestone. Blue, or daresay even pink. He lands a nice hard smack on Yoongi's right cheek, grinning from the way Yoongi whimpers, then takes the end of the plug and very gently begins to tug. 

With a gasp and a moan, Yoongi sags forward. Hoseok takes it slow, pulling and pushing bit by bit, bringing the plug gradually out more and more until the largest part of the bulb is released, causing Yoongi to practically squeal. Then he quickly removes the rest of the plug, spits on three of his fingers, and begins to prod. 

"Seok," Yoongi moans, sagging down to his elbows. "Please. We don't have much time."

"So impatient," Hoseok teases as his fingers slide easily to the knuckle. "You want me so bad, huh?"

"Yes," Yoongi babbles, "god, yes, please, Seokah."

Hoseok pulls his briefs down and strokes his hard, leaking cock, then he spits once more on his palm, rubbing over his tip and doing his best to hold back a moan. He wants to save all his sounds for Yoongi. 

"Stand up," Hoseok says.

Yoongi complies, anchoring his palms against the desk once more. Hoseok uses one hand to spread Yoongi's perfect round cheeks and the other to line them up, then he presses, in, in, in, slowly but unyieldingly carving Yoongi open. 

The pitchy, broken sounds Yoongi makes are music to Hoseok's ears, and he leans over Yoongi, gently taking him by the neck as he continues to enter him fully. He gives Yoongi a moment to catch his breath, sucking and nipping at Yoongi's shoulder to make him gasp and shudder. Then he pulls his hips back nice and slow and punches them forward. 

If not for the hand on Yoongi's throat, he would have collapsed. Yoongi moans loudly, elbows and knees trembling, sending him forward. Hoseok sucks on Yoongi's skin a little harder, leaving a dark welt behind, then he stands and gently presses against Yoongi's back, allowing him to lean forward. Once he is settled, Hoseok sets a quick, rough pace, holding Yoongi firmly by the hips and taking care not to let his cock come into contact with the desk. He resists the urge to grip his hair, not wanting to mess it up more than it already will be, in case he has to face anyone once they are finished. 

"You feel so good, hyung," Hoseok praises, digging his fingernails nice and hard into soft, supple flesh. "So fucking tight."

Yoongi simply moans and babbles in response, a chorus of please and thank you and so good and every curse word accessible to his lips, tongue, and teeth, in more languages than one. Hoseok wishes he could take his time and really explore Yoongi's body the way he yearns to, but he does not want Namjoon to return to an empty building. 

Hoseok reaches around Yoongi and grabs hold of his cock, rubbing the dribbled precum over its length. Yoongi moans and quivers, tightening around Hoseok and propelling his pleasure straight to the moon. 

"I have been dreaming about bending you over this desk, hyung," he grits, voice fucked and stilted, words elongated with moans. "Wish I could take my time and really make you beg – really tease you and make you cum over and over until you have nothing left to give me."

He strokes Yoongi's length, not quite in time with his hips, struggling more and more to keep his composure the closer he gets. Regardless, Yoongi is a mess, legs trembling and voice completely broken. His head rests on one arm, and the other keeps him tethered, fingers white from digging into the desk. 

"Cum for me, hyung," Hoseok says as he rolls his palm over Yoongi's tip. "Show me how much you've missed my cock."

Yoongi is a mess of incoherent but desperate sounds. His body quakes with pleasure, and Hoseok can feel his cock pulsate, a warning of his offering to come. He squeezes Hoseok so tight it makes him dizzy, and the moment he cums, Hoseok does, too. 

Their bodies tense and shiver in tandem, Hoseok trying to fuck Yoongi through his orgasm despite feeling so sensitive. He leans forward, draping himself over Yoongi and pressing his face against sweat-slicked skin that quickly goes from hot to cold. 

Yoongi's voice is rough as he croaks out, "Can't believe you made me cum all over my expensive desk."

The sound Hoseok makes is closer to a snort than a laugh, all nasal and oddly wet. He buries his face into Yoongi's back, but Yoongi begins to groan and use what meager strength he has to stand the two of them up. 

As Hoseok stands, his softened cock slides out of Yoongi, making a squelching sound that has both of them gasping and chuckling. Yoongi continues to hunch forward, catching his breath, and Hoseok can see faint lines down his back from where his fingernails trailed.

"Oh shit, I marked you," he says, feeling inexplicably anxious, heart beginning to quicken. "I'm so sorry."

Yoongi shrugs. "I like a little pain with my pleasure. And, besides," he turns, hair surprisingly still in place as he tucks fallen strands behind his ears, giving Hoseok a crooked smile, "there is nobody else who will see my marked skin." 

Relief washes over Hoseok, but Yoongi must have clocked his apprehension. He tilts his head and closes the gap between them, lifting his hands to Hoseok's cheeks. 

"Seok, please tell me you do not think I have been seeing other people."

Suddenly, Hoseok feels stupid for worrying about anything. He shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes as he combats all the heightened emotions inside him. With a smile that he can feel is unconvincing, he says, "That's not what I meant, hyung. I just didn't want to do something you may not like, regardless of whether anyone or no one sees."

Yoongi nods, steps forward, and wraps Hoseok in a hug, arms around his shoulders so Hoseok can slot his around Yoongi's ribs the way he likes to. Yoongi's arms engulf Hoseok's head and he pulls him so close, Hoseok can only breathe in skin. 

"Sorry for always assuming the worst," Yoongi says softly, burying his nose against Hoseok's neck, nuzzling beside his ear. 

Hoseok grins. "We're navigating things. One day at a time."

"And, for the record, as long as it does not show when I am dressed in everyday attire, I do not mind being marked up." With a soft press of lips against sensitive skin, Yoongi backs from the hug and sighs. "Need to get dressed."

Hoseok begins to find his strewn clothing, feeling a bit dizzy and off balance as he steps into his garments. He does not wholly regret forgoing food in order to fuck the man of his dreams, but he does wish he had a little something to snack on since there is no catering today.

Thankfully, while thumbing through his phone, Yoongi asks, "Hungry?"

Hoseok nods and grins. He pushes out the thought of Yoongi having to get back on a plane tomorrow and focuses on staying present.

For now, everything feels good. It feels right. 

*

am i seductive? call me back in an hour if you wanna go back home oh, babe, at least leave the scent of your cologne leave the scent of your cologne

(hoesik in the context it is mentioned here is the name of the Korean practice where employees go out to drink with their bosses after work. you see it in kdramas a lot.)

HI FRIENDS!!!!!! listen, we can all see that this is not the last chapter, okay. i wrote a massive tome and now i am splitting it in half for the sake of my mental health lol. idk why i haven't posted this sooner because all it needed was a couple rounds of editing. but here it is. thank you for waiting!!! 🤍 there should only be one chapter after this for real for real. pray for a summer release idk (this semester is kicking my ass.)

sometimes it takes some stern words from a best friend to help us get our act together. i like to highlight in stories how easy it is to get lost in ones head and fail to see the forest for the trees, as well as how important it is to be in community with one another. this fic has been a fun exercise in just that. thanks for being along for the ride. i'll see you soon. 🤍🤍🤍 THANK YOU FOR READING!!! COMMENTS & REBLOGS MAKE THE WORLD GO 'ROUND! LIKES ARE ALWAYS SO SO APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND FOR YOUR PATINCE WHENEVER I DISAPPEAR!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!! trulymadlydeeply!!!!!!

tags in a separate reblog. 📸 want to be added to the tag list for the actual final chapter? or to all of my tag lists?? or just mxm tag lists??? dm me!

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Showstopper is copyright theharrowing 2022 - 2025. no translations or reposting allowed!

[screamlet]

"old school" comfort fic recs

tagged by @liminalmemories21 and @rcmclachlan

What are your old school comfort fics? The ones from fandoms that haven't been active in yeeeaaars, but you've read so many times you can practically quote them.

big big BIG caveat: lol. these are not old school fandoms, as such, but the truly old school ones i grew up with died with livejournal and del.icio.us. however!!! all these fics are 5-10 (or more) years old and that's about as old school as my bookmarks get.

i don't have tumblr usernames for these authors, but if they're around let them know? or don't!

fandoms covered: bts, check please, hockey rpf [all archive locked], star trek (aos and rpf), and the untamed

---

BTS happy that we met each other (jinkook, @/fictionalmissp, @/pearlowrites)

Jungkook is trying to adjust to life after military service. Seokjin is dealing with his recent divorce and being a dad. Everyone is trying their best.

someday we'll know (rapline ot3, @/fadetomorrow)

Six years ago, Hoseok walked away from Big Hit and an opportunity to debut as part of an idol group. He's worked hard to build a name for himself halfway across the world when he and the people he left behind collide again.

rivers and roads (til i reach you) (namseok, @/undercoverjikooks)

Namjoon is a lonely, anxious businessman who finds comfort and peace in sex worker slash grocery store clerk Hoseok, who's convinced that he's only worth leaving.

Should Never Fall So Easily (namseok, @/murderoustannie)

It’s not that Namjoon sleep-walked into his relationship with Hoseok, exactly. Mostly because that would imply a total lack of pain and embarrassment, giving the whole ordeal a dream-like quality to it that Namjoon doesn’t think it deserves. But if you asked Namjoon how it happened, exactly, he would have a hard time pin-pointing it.

---

CHECK PLEASE! for all of the perfect things that i doubt (series) (kent parson centric, mostly kent parson/omc, @/idrilka)

and in that series: no lightning, just thunder (kent parson/omc)

At thirty-five, Kent wins his fourth Stanley Cup. Two months later, he retires from the NHL.

Lord, What a Difference a Day Makes (kent parson/alexei mashkov, @/coffeestars)

Kent time travels (he thinks; it’s either that or he’s gone off the deep end once and for all), gets married to some Russian guy built like a tree, acquires two children, one of whom isn’t even his, freaks out, and grows up. In that order.

---

HOCKEY RPF

double digging for the successful transplant of organic cultivars (michael latta/tom wilson, @/rest)

Tom likes working with his hands, but it is a solitary life. He would much prefer to be married. Leaving and settling elsewhere is his surest chance for having that. (aka "The Space Western Mail Order Bride AU")

love on a deposit of frozen pleistocene carbon (nicklas backstrom/alex ovechkin, @/saintsideways)

Sasha is the only person to have lasted more than a year at Wrest Island Arctic Research Station, except, of course, for Dr. Bäckström. Or: Sasha's head over heels, in a slightly more than figurative sense.

human resources (nicklas backstrom/alex ovechkin, @/babygotbackstrom)

Sasha knows he's going to marry the angel who works in the finance department.

i want to belong here (sidney crosby/evgeni malkin, @/cathedralhearts)

“Can I come to Russia with you?” Zhenya’s brain fritzes out for a second. “Sorry?” he asks, thinking he’s misheard. Years of pining can do that to a person -- make you believe that the object of your affections wants something more than they really do. Sid’s gone bright pink and is staring at the floor, so maybe it’s not pining-induced insanity. Sanja will be pleased.

the light through the windowpane (tyson barrie/gabe landeskog, @/underwaternow)

or, the one where Gabe and Tyson fall in love, break up, Gabe gets married, Tyson falls apart a little, they don't speak to each other for awhile, and then they finally make up. colloquially referred to as “sad fic” but there's very much a happy ending

Big Horny's Guide to Finding Love (and Then Some) for the Modern Man (erik johnson/nate mackinnon, @/venvephe)

ExtraJuicy 🍑🍑💦 Both sporty and spicy. Not a horse girl, but likes to ride. Have a sense of humor and we’ll see where it goes. “Is that Grindr?” Gabe gasps out, and EJ elbows him deftly in the side as several heads swivel in their direction. Fucking Gabe and his big forehead and bigger mouth. “Erik Robert Johnson, have you learned how to sext?”

---

STAR TREK (REBOOT) strive seek find yield (aka SPOCTORIA) (kirk/spock, @waldorph)

Spock is heir to the Federation throne, Jim is Prince of America because his fucking brother abdicated, and the Klingons are on the verge of blowing shit up--a love story.

---

STAR TREK (RPF) merry bachelors (chris pine/zachary quinto, @/therumjournals)

Ten years from now, Zach reads a promising script. (Aka Chris and Zach make a movie about Cary Grant and Randolph Scott)

chris, nicky, and the nanny (chris pine/zachary quinto, @/thedanveresque)

Chris hires a hipster manny for his son Nicky.

---

THE UNTAMED all the time in the world to get it right (series) (lwj/wwx, @/belle_abroad)

on a rainy morning wei ying, debut novelist, ducks into lan zhan's bookstore, the quiet room, and never leaves. (lan zhan's heart. he leaves the store, a couple of times.)

[chimcess]

⮞ Chapter Three: Not For Me Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x OC) Other Tags: Convict!Jungkook, Escaped Prisoner!Jungkook, Piolet!Reader, Captain!Reader, Holyman!Namjoon Genre: Sci-Fi, Action, Adventure, Thriller, Suspense, Strangers to Enemies to ???, Slow Burn, LOTS of Angst, Light Fluff, Eventual Smut, Third Person POV, 18+ Only Word Count: 22.4k+ Summary: When a deep space transporter crash-lands on a barren planet illuminated by three relentless suns, survival becomes the only priority for the stranded passengers, including resourceful pilot Y/N Y/L/N, mystic Namjoon Kim, lawman Taemin Lee, and enigmatic convict Jungkook Jeon. As they scour the hostile terrain for supplies and a way to escape, Y/N uncovers a terrifying truth: every 22 years, the planet is plunged into total darkness during an eclipse, awakening swarms of ravenous, flesh-eating creatures. Forced into a fragile alliance, the survivors must face not only the deadly predators but also their own mistrust and secrets. For Y/N, the growing tension with Jungkook—both a threat and a reluctant ally—raises the stakes even higher, as the battle to escape becomes one for survival against the darkness both around them and within themselves. Warnings: Strong Language, Side Character Death, Main Character Death, Aliens, Vicious Carnivorous Aliens, Violence, Blood, Jungkook is a huge prick, Cocky too, Talks About Past Characters Dying, Trauma Bonding, Bickering, Arguing, If Kook is a prick then Lee is a dick, Child Death, Graphic Death Scenes, Sexual Tension, Y/N is just trying her best, Jaded Characters, Religious Themes (I mean no harm and do not want to offend anyone), Bad Character Choices, Peter is Iconic (and a dumb ass), Surviving, Alcohol Consumption, Aliens killing A LOT of people, SUSPENSE, ANGST, Lee is genuinely the WORST person here, and he's in competition with a murderer so, I love how much of a jerk JK is, In Namjoon we trust, This is all angst and action and that's pretty much it, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Be prepared... there's a lot of deaths. Proceed with caution. Thanks for reading!

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At first, it looked like smoke, curling up from the jagged hills, coiling in long tendrils that slithered through the night. It moved strangely, as if it had a will of its own, twisting unnaturally against the wind. The survivors stood in uneasy silence, their breath held tight in their throats, until realization hit them all at once. This was not smoke. It was something else entirely.

The sound that followed was unlike anything they had ever heard—an eerie symphony of clicks, shrieks, and chittering wails that slashed through the air like a serrated blade. Then came the wings. Sharp, sleek, cutting through the encroaching dark with a deadly precision. They poured from the craggy spires in relentless waves, an unholy swarm shrieking with the sheer exhilaration of nightfall. The sky churned as they spread out, blotting out what little light remained, turning the world into a writhing, living storm.

Lee’s voice broke through the rising panic, hoarse and disbelieving. “Jesus… how many of them can there be?”

More poured forth, a tide of grotesque bodies, their numbers beyond comprehension. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if the creatures might pass them by, seeking prey elsewhere, but the illusion shattered in an instant. As if guided by some unseen intelligence, a portion of the swarm peeled away, shifting course, heading straight for them.

Peter’s voice wavered, his panic barely contained. “Uh… just a thought, but maybe we should flee?”

Y/N’s voice cut through the tension, sharp, commanding. “Cargo hold! Everyone, move! Now!”

Her words ignited action. The ground trembled under their pounding footsteps as they sprinted toward the hold, the swarm closing in behind them. Y/N reached it first, spinning just inside the hatch, her heart lurching when she saw Jungkook and Bindi still outside, running full tilt toward safety. Against the backdrop of the roiling sky, they were little more than silhouettes, illuminated by the sickly glow of the creatures’ bioluminescent wings.

Then, the swarm descended.

It was a storm of wings and talons, a living maelstrom slicing through the air with horrifying speed. The shrieking mass swept over them like a black tide, the force of it nearly knocking them from their feet. Jungkook and Bindi hit the ground in unison, flattening themselves against the earth as the creatures surged overhead, their razor-edged wings slicing the air just inches above them.

Bindi lay frozen, her chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, her fingers clawing into the dirt as if trying to anchor herself against the chaos. Jungkook, in contrast, was eerily still. His face was unreadable as he watched the creatures swirl above them, something akin to fascination gleaming in his dark eyes. Slowly, he lifted a crude bone-shiv, holding it aloft like an offering. Then, with the detached curiosity of a scientist, he thrust it into the heart of the storm.

The blade vanished in an instant, shredded into nothingness by the relentless flurry of wings. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, as if calculating the swarm’s efficiency, as if filing away every piece of information with eerie precision.

“Bindi!” Leo’s voice rang out from the cargo hold, frantic. “Stay down! Don’t move!”

Bindi’s gaze snapped toward the sound, a flicker of hope breaking through her terror. She began to crawl, inching forward, her elbows digging into the dirt. Every movement felt like an eternity, the world narrowing to the frantic pounding of her heart. The swarm churned above, shrieking and shifting, and for a moment, it seemed as though she might make it.

Then, the hatchlings turned.

With horrifying speed, the swarm adjusted course, locking onto her like a pack of starving wolves. The noise rose into a deafening crescendo, a thousand clicking jaws converging all at once.

“No.” Y/N’s voice was barely more than a whisper, thick with dread. “No, no, no, no—”

The creatures struck like a living flood. One second, Bindi was crawling toward salvation; the next, she was engulfed. Her scream barely made it past her lips before it was swallowed by the storm. The hatchlings twisted around her, a vortex of writhing bodies lifting her into the air. For a split second, they could still see her, limbs flailing, before she was pulled higher, vanishing into the swirling mass above.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Inside the cargo hold, the survivors stood frozen, their faces pale, their breath caught in their throats. They had seen it. They had watched as she was taken, as if the night itself had devoured her. The creatures carried her upward, over the horizon, until there was nothing left but the empty void.

Jungkook remained where he was, motionless amid the settling dust. His gaze never left the darkened sky, tracking the last remnants of the swarm as they disappeared. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet. He dusted the dirt from his hands, his movements methodical, unhurried. He turned toward the cargo hold, walking with deliberate steps, as if nothing had changed.

Inside, the others still hadn’t moved. Fear clung to them, thick as smoke, suffocating. Y/N opened her mouth, her mind scrambling for something—anything—to say, when a new sound began to rise.

Click. Click. Click.

At first, it was faint, distant, like stones tapping together. But it grew louder, sharper, echoing through the heavy air. The space around them seemed to shift, the very atmosphere thickening with something unseen, something waiting.

Y/N felt it then. A cold knot tightening in her gut. She knew that sound.

Jungkook…” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tremor of fear lacing her words. “What’s happening?”

Jungkook paused just outside the cargo hold, his gaze fixed on the crumbling spires in the distance. The faint light reflected off his goggles as he pulled them off, revealing eyes that gleamed unnervingly in the dim glow. His expression was unreadable, his attention locked on the distant, dying spires, as if the answers were written in the ruins.

The hills were collapsing, their jagged peaks groaning under the weight of their own destruction. The ground trembled, as if the very earth itself was giving way. From the crumbling cliffs, massive shapes began to emerge, each one deliberate and purposeful. Unlike the hatchlings that had surged forth with chaotic energy, these creatures moved with cold calculation. Their hammer-shaped heads swayed as they stepped into the open, each movement slow but precise, every click of their joints sharp and rhythmic, reverberating against the surrounding cliffs. Their bodies were unnervingly mammalian, slick, sinewy flesh that gleamed faintly under the dim light, an unsettling reminder that something monstrous had been waiting just beneath the surface.

“What is it? What do you see?” Y/N’s voice trembled, a raw edge creeping in as she fought to contain her rising panic.

Jungkook’s voice broke through the heavy silence, his tone low, almost amused. “The grown-ups,” he murmured, a dark smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Told you... ain’t me you gotta worry about.”

Above them, the twin suns were eclipsed by the planet’s rim, plunging the world into an unnatural darkness. The stars were hidden, swallowed by a storm of predators that surged forth from the shattered hills. The atmosphere felt thick, oppressive, as if the very air was charged with impending doom.

Inside the cargo hold, Y/N slammed her hand against the control panel. The thick, vault-like doors hissed and groaned as they slid shut, sealing the survivors inside. The sound of the lock engaging echoed in the chamber, sharp and final.

The space inside the hold was unbearably small, the air heavy with tension and fear. Bodies crowded the room, their presence amplifying every creak and groan of the metal hull. Flashlights flickered to life, casting long, jittery shadows on the walls. Every scrape of metal, every distant noise felt amplified, as though the creatures outside were testing the strength of their temporary sanctuary.

Y/N leaned against the cold metal wall, her heart hammering as she tried to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded so suddenly. Around her, the others stood motionless, their faces pale, drawn, and tight with fear. Each person was lost in their own private terror, the silence between them thickening with every passing second.

But even in the stillness, the clicking persisted, growing louder, closer. It was relentless, a sound that crawled under their skin, twisting the air with its chilling rhythm.

Leo sat hunched against the cold wall, his knees pulled to his chest, his voice barely audible. “What if... what if she’s still out there? Still alive?” His eyes darted from one face to the next, searching for a glimmer of hope in their expressions.

Lee, leaning casually against the opposite wall, snorted dryly, a humorless sound that cut through the tension like a blade. His voice was colder than the night pressing against the hull. “Look, I don’t wanna be the guy to burst your bubble, but you remember that boneyard we passed? These might be the charming assholes that wiped out every other living thing on this rock. So unless Bindi’s got superpowers, her knocking on that door anytime soon? That’s about zero squared, buddy.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the memory of the skeletal remains flashing in her mind. She closed her eyes against it, but it wouldn’t go away. “I saw the cut marks on the bones,” she said quietly. “That wasn’t natural. Something butchered them.”

“Quiet, please,” Namjoon’s voice interrupted, cutting through the rising tension. He held up a hand, pressing his ear against the thick cargo door, his face drawn tight with concentration. His senses were tuned to the smallest of details, every sound scrutinized for meaning.

The others fell silent, breaths shallow and synchronized, as they strained to hear past the metal barrier. The clicking continued, a distant storm of noise that swept past outside, growing louder, then fading away again into the night.

Leo’s voice broke the silence, laced with fear. “What do they even do that for? Why do they make that sound?”

Namjoon’s brow furrowed, his calm voice betraying a quiet tension. “It may be the way they see... using sound to create a picture of the world.”

“Echo-location,” Y/N murmured, the realization clicking into place. “Like bats. That’s what it is.”

Before anyone could respond, a sharp new clicking sound rang out from behind them. Instantly, their flashlights whipped around, beams of light cutting through the oppressive darkness. The hold seemed to expand, its shadows deepening, stretching outward as if the space itself was becoming more alive.

“Where’s it coming from?” Leo’s voice quivered, his fear seeping into every word.

The lights landed on the darkened gap of an open container halfway down the long, tunnel-like hold. The door swung slightly, nudged by an unseen force.

“How the hell could one of them get in here?” someone muttered, their voice barely above a breath.

Y/N’s voice was sharp, urgent. “Breach in the hull,” she said quickly. “Or maybe the vents. I don’t know.”

The group turned, eyes locking onto Lee, whose expression had soured. He sighed heavily, the weight of their expectations settling on him as they all turned their gaze toward him.

“Goddammit,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for his shotgun. “I’d rather piss glass.”

Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall, smirked faintly. “You’ve got the big gauge, old man. Time to earn your keep.”

Lee shot him a venomous glare, his grip tightening around the shotgun. “Wanna rag your fat mouth a little louder, golden boy? Or you wanna take point?”

The clicking grew louder, now joined by a sharp crash from deeper in the hold. Something heavy had toppled, the sound reverberating off the walls, sending a chill down their spines.

“Big beads,” Jungkook quipped, his smirk widening as the tension mounted.

Lee shook his head, sucking on his breather before stepping forward. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

He moved cautiously toward the open container, shotgun raised, his flashlight cutting a narrow beam through the dark. The clicking echoed all around them, distorted and impossible to pinpoint, as though it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The air in the hold was thick with the weight of it, the darkness pressing closer with every step.

When Lee reached the container, he paused, his breath shallow, and then fired a blind shot into the shadows. The deafening boom of the shotgun echoed through the cramped space, a violent punctuation to the tension that had been mounting since the first hint of danger. The sharp, pained squeal that followed was short-lived, fading quickly into the silence, leaving behind an eerie stillness.

Easing around the edge of the container, Lee aimed his flashlight inside, the beam slicing through the dark. It landed on a cluster of hatchlings—tiny, malformed bodies, their twitching limbs tangled in pulpy, bloodied heaps. He exhaled slowly, the tension that had been coiled tight in his shoulders easing as he took in the scene.

“Okay,” he called back to the others, his voice steady now. “We’re okay. Just some small ones that must’ve snuck in. Nothing to—”

He never finished the sentence.

From the darkness, something swung out like a scythe. The force of it struck Lee’s shotgun with brutal precision, sending it clattering to the floor with a deafening clang. The weapon discharged, its blast ricocheting off the ceiling in a brief, blinding flash. In that instant, Lee saw it—it.

An adult predator loomed in the shadows, its massive, hammer-like head tilting toward him. The clicking echoed through the tight space, sharp and unsettling, as the creature remained unnervingly still, yet coiled with latent energy, like a spring about to snap. Its skin gleamed sickeningly in the dim light, a sinewy texture that seemed to absorb the glow, swallowing any trace of warmth.

“Shit,” Lee whispered, his voice barely audible, more a prayer than a statement.

Peter shoved past him, face pale, sweat glistening on his brow as his hand flew to the door lever. His voice cracked with panic. “Not staying in here another second—”

Y/N lunged forward, grabbing his arm with a desperate grip, her nails digging into his sleeve. “Christ, Peter, you don’t know what’s out there!” Her voice was sharp, but there was a tremor beneath the words, a raw edge of fear that betrayed her calm façade.

“I know what’s in here!” Peter snapped back, his eyes darting around the darkened space, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “I know what’s in here, and I’m not waiting for it to tear me apart.”

Namjoon stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. His voice cut through the rising panic, calm yet urgent. “Everybody, this way. We’ll be safer deeper in. Hurry, please...” His words were a lifeline, a thread of reason in the madness that threatened to swallow them all.

The air inside the container felt suffocating, thick with the sour tang of sweat and the mechanical hiss of breathers struggling to pull in precious oxygen. No one dared speak as they followed Namjoon, their footsteps hurried and uneven, the metal floor groaning under their collective weight.

Then the sound began—a faint scratching at first, distant and almost imperceptible, like fingernails dragging across steel. But it grew steadily louder, a slow, deliberate scraping that clawed its way through the silence, twisting the air, wrapping around their nerves like a vice.

Lee muttered a curse under his breath, fumbling for the cutting torch strapped to his belt. His hands were slick with sweat, trembling as he finally sparked it to life. The burst of orange light filled the container, illuminating the faces of the survivors, pale and drawn, the shadows dancing wildly on the walls. He adjusted the gas, coaxing the flame to burn brighter, casting an eerie glow across the space.

“Stay back,” he said, his voice tight with tension, as he moved toward the far wall. The glow from the torch cast a sickly halo around the door, pulling every eye toward it, a silent warning of the danger that was closing in.

The scratching escalated into something heavier, more deliberate. Scythe-like claws scraped and probed at the door’s joints, testing its strength, forcing the metal to groan under the pressure. The air thickened with the sound, the reality of the threat inching closer with every scraping, every moment of silence that followed.

Then came the blows. Heavy, calculated strikes that reverberated through the container, sending a shockwave of terror through the survivors. Each strike seemed designed to break them, to force them back into the corner where they had nowhere left to go. The noise was overwhelming, each blow making the metal shudder, forcing them to shrink away.

Jungkook’s voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and irritated. “Can you do something else with that?” He gestured to the cutting torch. “Besides holding it in my fucking face?”

Lee shot him a glare, but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned, focusing once again on the wall in front of him, the torch biting into the metal with a steady, rhythmic crackling. Each spark was like the ticking of a grim countdown.

The scratching outside turned to tearing, a sound of steel being ripped apart, and the blows came faster now—more insistent, more brutal. Each strike shook the container like a drum, and the survivors were pushed further into the corner, their minds racing for any possible escape.

Y/N’s voice was a low, trembling whisper. “Hurry, Lee. Please.”

Lee didn’t respond. His focus was absolute, his eyes locked on the glowing line he was carving into the wall. Behind him, the door groaned again, the metal bowing inward under the relentless assault, bending toward them like an inevitable, crushing force.

Finally, the makeshift escape hatch was open, and Leo scrambled through first, his movements frantic, uncoordinated as he darted for freedom. “Come on!” he hissed, waving his hand wildly for the others to follow.

Behind them, the door gave way. The sound of metal shredding filled the air, a deafening, grinding scream that drowned out every other noise.

The predators came through fast—massive, sleek creatures with hammer-shaped heads and serrated claws, moving with terrifying precision. Their clicking filled the air, a chorus of broken gears grinding together, echoing off the metal walls as they poured into the space. They moved with an unnerving fluidity, sweeping through the container like hunters unleashed. Their echo-location guided them, and their movements were as deliberate as they were deadly, each step an instinctive calculation.

“Go, go, go!” Y/N shouted, her voice raw with urgency as she shoved Peter toward the hole.

The survivors scrambled through the escape hatch, their breaths ragged, hearts pounding. On the other side, Lee wasted no time. He slammed his torch against the edges of the opening, welding the thin sheet of metal shut behind them. The predators thudded against the barrier almost immediately, their claws scraping against the fresh welds with bone-chilling speed.

“Move!” Namjoon barked, his voice slicing through the chaos, compelling them forward.

They sprinted through the adjoining container, but the darkness that met them was suffocating, and the relentless clicking followed them like a shadow. It was a haunting reminder that they weren’t out of danger yet. Lee lit the torch again, its dim glow barely cutting through the thick blackness. He began carving another escape route, each movement swift, but steady. Meanwhile, Y/N and Peter worked feverishly to barricade the entrance, using whatever they could find—crates, loose pipes, their own bodies pressed against the door. But it was never enough.

The predators were relentless. They tore through each makeshift barrier with terrifying speed, each new attack a savage reminder of the creatures’ lethal precision. Every time the survivors scrambled into the next container, the beasts were already at their heels, claws raking through the walls, the clicking growing louder, more frenzied.

In the fifth container, Y/N and Peter hurled their bodies against the barricade, sweat streaming down their faces as they pushed crates, pipes, and loose cargo into place. The screeches and tearing sounds from the predators beyond grew louder, closer, hammering against their fraying nerves. Jungkook stood beside them, bracing his hands against the wall, adding his strength to the effort. But then, he froze.

Something caught his eye—marks on the cargo. At first, they seemed like scratches or grooves, but they were too deliberate, too clean. They were precise cuts, like those made by a predator’s blade. His gaze tracked the marks, following them down to the floor, where faint, glistening smears trailed into the darker recesses of the container.

Jungkook didn’t say a word. Quiet as a shadow, he slipped away from the group, his footsteps muffled against the cold metal floor.

Peter turned his head, his voice trembling with rising panic. “Hello? Jungkook? Where the hell are you going?”

But Jungkook didn’t answer. He moved toward the far end of the container, where the dim glow of Lee’s cutting torch didn’t reach. His boots squelched against something wet, and his pace slowed. He slipped off his goggles, squinting into the deep shadows.

The scene that emerged in the faint light made him stop. Dead hatchlings littered the floor, their twisted bodies scattered like discarded toys. Blood and viscera smeared the metal, the sharp coppery tang filling the air.

Jungkook felt it before he saw it. A ripple in the air, a sense of something alive—watching.

There, perched atop a stack of cargo, was an adolescent predator. Its sinewy body moved with unnerving grace as it tore into the carcass of a hatchling. The creature’s head was crowned with a heavy, bone-like blade that gleamed faintly in the low light. It paused mid-feed, clicking softly as it tilted its head, its scythe-like forelimbs sweeping the air, feeling for vibrations, searching for prey.

Behind him, the group forced open another escape hatch. Leo scrambled through first, followed by Y/N and Lee. Namjoon and Kai lingered, their faces tense as they glanced back toward the darkened depths of the container.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Namjoon’s voice was hushed, tight with concern.

The answer came too late.

Kai turned the corner, his steps faltering as his gaze snapped upward. The adolescent predator loomed above him, its blade descending like a guillotine.

“Don’t. Move.”

Jungkook’s voice cut through the moment, calm and commanding. He emerged from the shadows, every muscle taut, coiled with tension. His gaze locked onto the predator, steady and unblinking.

Kai froze. The creature’s blade grazed his cheek, a shallow cut that welled with blood. The predator clicked, testing, its movements almost clinical, surgical.

Then, another shape loomed behind the first. A second predator, larger, its blade gleaming in the low light as it tested the air.

From the other end of the container, Y/N’s voice echoed, sharp and urgent. “Jungkook? Namjoon? What’s going on?”

Kai’s breath hitched, his eyes darting between the creatures and the open hatch. Panic surged through him, a cold wave of terror. Without thinking, he bolted.

“No—” Jungkook’s warning came too late.

The predators moved as one, a blur of lethal grace. Their blades flashed in the dark, and Kai’s scream tore through the container, high and sharp, before it was abruptly silenced.

Jungkook’s body snapped into motion. He ducked behind a stack of cargo, moving with the predator’s instinct, every step measured and calculated. He darted for the open hatch just as Y/N’s flashlight beam sliced through the darkness.

The light hit him square in the face, and he stumbled, his hand flying up instinctively to shield his eyes. “Turn that off!” he barked.

But the beam moved past him, landing on the predator that had been closing in on his heels. The creature recoiled instantly, letting out a guttural howl. It thrashed wildly, its movements erratic, disoriented, as though the light had burned it.

Y/N froze, her hand trembling as the flashlight shook in her grip. Her mind raced. Did… did that just stop it?

The silence shattered with the deafening blast of Lee’s shotgun, the echo reverberating through the metal walls. He fired blindly into the dark, his face locked in a rictus of adrenaline and fear.

“Stop it! Stop it, STOP IT!” Y/N screamed, shoving Lee hard enough to make him stumble.

“It’s okay,” Lee muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hands trembling as he barely kept a grip on the shotgun. “I killed it.”

Disbelief rippled through the group. Before anyone could speak, a sickening thud resonated through the space. A carcass slammed to the floor, twitching weakly, steam rising from the still-warm body.

“Christ,” Peter whispered, his voice barely audible. “He did kill one.”

Y/N swept her flashlight over the creature’s grotesque form. Its charred, sinewy flesh seemed to shrink and crackle under the beam, sizzling as though doused in acid.

“There,” Y/N said quietly, the weight of realization settling in her voice, heavy and unyielding.

Peter leaned closer, his face twisting into an expression that was part disgust, part curiosity. “It’s like the light is scalding it.”

“It hurts them,” Y/N replied, her voice sharpening, taking on an edge of cold certainty. “Light actually hurts them.”

From somewhere in the oppressive shadows beyond the container, the guttural sounds of predators squabbling over a fresh kill reached their ears. The noises were wet, feral, and horribly familiar, a sound they all knew too well.

Namjoon’s face tightened, grief flickering across his usually composed features. He looked at Jungkook, his voice a near whisper. “Is that... Kai?”

Jungkook nodded once, grim and silent, his eyes dark with unspoken thoughts.

The air inside the container grew heavier, thick with the weight of tension that settled in their chests like stones. The cargo piled against the doors and walls—a makeshift barricade no one truly believed would hold for long—felt as fragile as the fleeting hope that had once driven them. Y/N’s handlight was their only source of illumination, its faint glow a fragile lifeline in the vast, suffocating darkness pressing in from every side.

Leo sat huddled against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Normally sharp-tongued and defiant, she looked like a frightened child now, her wide eyes darting nervously to every shifting shadow. Y/N glanced at her, a pang of something deep and bitter twisting in her chest, but she forced herself to focus. Focus on survival.

Y/N’s voice cut through the dark, steady and firm. “Let’s take stock. One cutting torch, one handlight here. Two more flashlights in the cabin, and maybe two after that.”

Peter’s voice, lighter than the situation warranted, held a flicker of tension. “Spirits. Anything over forty-five proof burns well.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “How many bottles?”

Peter shrugged, a ghost of a grin playing at his lips. “Ten? Give or take.”

“What about the umbrellas?” Y/N’s mind was moving at breakneck speed. “The ones that mist. Could they burn?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Possibly. If you’ve got a receipt and some kerosene handy.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded, her mind already assembling a plan. “Maybe we’ll have enough light to get through this.”

“Enough for what?” Lee’s voice cut in, sharp with skepticism.

“To get the cells back to the skiff,” Y/N answered evenly, her gaze unwavering, daring him to argue.

Lee let out a humorless laugh, leaning back against the wall. “Oh, lady,” he said, voice thick with disbelief. “If you’re in your right mind, I pray you go insane.”

Y/N ignored him, focusing on the group. “We stick to the plan. If we can get four cells back to the skiff, we’re off this rock.”

Peter snorted, shaking his head. “Hate to ruin your beautiful theory with an ugly fact, but that sand-cat won’t run at night.”

“Then we carry the cells,” Y/N’s voice was cold, final. “Drag them. Whatever it takes.”

The floor light flickered, its glow dimming with every passing moment. Y/N glanced at it, jaw tightening, willing it to hold.

“You mean… tonight?” Leo’s voice trembled, fear threading through her words. “With all those things still out there?”

Peter feigned mock cheerfulness, though his voice cracked slightly. “Oh, absolutely. Sounds like a hoot.”

“How long can this last?” Lee’s voice cut through the banter, sharper now, the skepticism replaced with grim reality. “A few minutes? A couple of hours?”

Namjoon spoke softly, reluctant, as if the words carried weight. “The planets are locked together in orbit. There will be lasting darkness.”

Lee’s face twisted in frustration. “The suns have to come back eventually. If these things are scared of light, we wait them out.”

“I’m sure that’s what someone else said. Locked inside that coring room.” Y/N shook her head, her voice like steel. “It’ll last three days. That’s how long it lasted when the other crew was here.”

The implication landed like a hammer, the coring room now a mass grave. The weight of it settled over them all.

Lee exhaled sharply, his voice softer now, almost reasonable. “Look, we have to think about everyone. Especially the kid. How scared is she gonna be out there?”

Y/N’s eyes snapped to him, ice-cold. “Don’t you dare use her as a smokescreen for your own fear.”

Lee straightened, eyes hard, a flash of anger sparking in his gaze. “Hey, why don’t you rag your hole for two seconds and let someone else come up with a plan that doesn’t involve mass suicide?”

A taut silence passed before Y/N’s voice cut through it, calm and deadly, like a blade. “How much do you weigh, Lee?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What the hell does that matter?”

“How much?” Y/N pressed, unwavering.

“Seventy-nine kilos,” he snapped.

Y/N’s gaze didn’t waver. “Because you’re seventy-nine kilos of gutless white meat. That’s why you can’t come up with a better plan.”

Lee lunged at her, fury distorting his features, but Jungkook moved between them with practiced ease. The barrel of Lee’s shotgun bumped lightly under Jungkook’s chin, the air between them humming with tension.

The dim light above cast restless shadows, the space between them vibrating with unspoken animosity.

“Think about that reward, Lee,” Jungkook’s voice was low, almost playful, but the edge in his tone was undeniable.

Lee didn’t flinch. His jaw clenched. “I’m willing to take a cut in pay.”

Jungkook’s smile widened, humorless. “How about a cut in your gut?”

He stepped closer, smooth, predatory, a shiv gleaming faintly in his hand. Small, wickedly sharp, poised with deadly precision, inches from Lee’s stomach.

“Oh, Trash Baby,” Lee growled, his voice carrying a promise of retribution. “You’re gonna regret this.”

The group stiffened, the already suffocating atmosphere thickening, the weight of their situation pressing down like a vice.

“Please,” Namjoon interjected, his voice soft yet firm, as he stepped forward with his hands raised in a calming gesture. He moved with quiet authority, his tone a thin thread of reason trying to weave its way through the tension that hung like a storm in the air. “This solves nothing. Please, both of you.”

For a moment, no one moved. The silence between them was thick, punctuated only by the faint hum of the flashlight and the distant clicking of predators moving through the dark, their movements just out of sight but always felt. It was a silence that pressed against their chests, making the air feel heavier, more oppressive.

It was Lee who relented first. His shoulders tensed as if ready to spring, his fury barely contained beneath the surface. He stepped back, the fire in his eyes not extinguished but held in check, a silent promise of retribution smoldering in the depths of his glare as he turned his attention away from Jungkook.

The light flickered again, a brief, fleeting stutter that caught everyone's attention. The shadows seemed to shift, drawing a little closer, as if daring to swallow the fragile haven the flashlight provided.

“They’re afraid of our light,” Y/N said softly, her voice breaking the silence with a quiet certainty. She crouched down near Leo, her tone calm and measured as she locked eyes with the young girl, who was trembling in the corner. “That means we don’t have to be so afraid of them.”

Leo nodded slowly, her gaze still wide with fear, her trembling hands betraying the unease that clung to her like a second skin.

Namjoon, ever the voice of reason, turned toward Y/N. His brow furrowed in concern, the lines of worry etched across his face. “And you’re certain you can find the way back?”

Y/N hesitated, the weight of his question pressing into her, making the confidence she'd been clinging to waver for the first time. Her eyes flickered briefly to Jungkook, who stood a few paces away, his posture relaxed despite the tension that was so thick in the air. He held the shiv loosely at his side, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light, his expression unreadable, a mask of cool indifference.

“No,” Y/N admitted, her voice steady despite the admission. “I’m not. But he can.”

All eyes turned to Jungkook.

He met their stares without flinching, his lips curling into the faintest of smirks, as if this were all just another game. The calmness in his demeanor was almost unsettling, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear that seemed to infect everyone else like a disease.

“You’re putting your faith in him?” Lee spat, his anger rising again, the edges of his words sharp like broken glass. “The guy who just pulled a blade on me?”

Jungkook tilted his head, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His dark eyes narrowed just slightly, sizing up Lee with an effortless cool. “Would you rather wander around in the dark and hope for the best? Because you're welcome to try.”

Lee opened his mouth to retort, but Namjoon cut him off, raising a hand to silence the argument before it could flare into something worse.

“Enough,” Namjoon said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. His gaze shifted to Jungkook, his expression unreadable, the tension in his shoulders settling into something closer to resolve. “Can you lead us back? Truly?”

Jungkook’s smirk faded, the playful mask slipping away, revealing something more serious behind his eyes. His shoulders squared slightly, and for a brief moment, the casualness of his demeanor cracked, replaced by a rare sincerity. “I can,” he said simply, his voice low but sure. “But it won’t be easy.”

“Nothing about this is easy,” Y/N said, her voice cutting through the moment like a knife. She stood, brushing dust from her hands, the gesture sharp and decisive. “But it’s a hell of a lot better than staying here and waiting to die.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the decision settling over them, thick and oppressive. There was no easy way out, no guarantee of survival, but at least this offered a chance.

“Fine,” Lee muttered finally, his voice bitter, the words dragging like nails against stone. “But if this goes sideways, don’t expect me to save your ass, Trash Baby.”

Jungkook’s grin returned, albeit colder, tinged with a humorless edge. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, pushing off the wall with a fluid motion.

He moved toward the center of the group, slipping the shiv back into his belt with a practiced ease. The light flickered again, but this time, no one remarked on it. They were all too focused on the fragile thread of hope they were about to chase.

“Let’s move,” Y/N said, her voice steady, cutting through the silence like a command.

Jungkook led the way, his steps measured, deliberate, seeing the path that no one else could. The rest of the group fell in behind him, their breaths shallow and their hands clutching their makeshift weapons.

The eclipsing planet dominated half the sky, a silent behemoth that radiated a sense of overwhelming insignificance. Its massive shadow swept across the landscape, blanketing it in an unnatural twilight. Only the faint, golden corona of the sun peeked out from the edges of the eclipse, casting an eerie glow over the terrain. Under this dim light, storm clouds began to gather, their bloated forms heavy with rain or worse.

The crash ship loomed ahead, a jagged silhouette against the horizon. Its hull was scorched and battered, barely standing upright. The survivors worked quickly to pry open the cargo doors, the cutting torch hissing and sparking as it sliced through warped metal. The fiery glow cast fleeting, flickering light over their faces, highlighting the grim determination etched into each one.

Y/N stood just behind the torchbearer, her posture sharp and commanding. The light danced across her face, her eyes focused and unwavering. She scanned the blackened expanse beyond the group, her ears straining against the unsettling symphony of primal sounds that echoed through the encroaching darkness. Deep, guttural growls. Sharp, rhythmic clicks. The occasional high-pitched screech that sent shivers down her spine.

The group moved cautiously, their formation tight like hostages being herded by an unseen captor. The torch led the way, its light a fragile bubble of safety. Each step across the open ground felt agonizingly slow, every crunch of debris underfoot a deafening reminder of how exposed they were.

At last, they reached the crash ship’s main cabin. It loomed before them like a darkened maw, its interior shrouded in shadow. The air was colder here, as if the darkness carried its own chill.

Y/N stopped at the threshold, her instincts prickling with unease. She turned toward Jungkook, who stood at the rear of the group, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead. The faint torchlight caught the sharp glint in his eyes, feline and calculating.

“Jungkook,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, cutting through the tense silence.

He stepped forward, his movements deliberate and fluid, like a predator surveying its territory. He tilted his head slightly, listening, then let his gaze sweep across the cabin’s darkened interior.

After a long pause, he spoke. “It looks clear.”

Lee snorted, muttering something under his breath, and pushed past Jungkook without waiting for further confirmation. He climbed up into the cabin, his boots clanging against the metal floor.

No sooner had he straightened to full height than a sharp, whooshing noise sliced through the air above him. Something small and fast bolted from the shadows, its leathery wings brushing the top of his head as it shot out of the cabin and disappeared into the night.

“Fuck me!” Lee cursed, ducking instinctively. His hand shot to his head, checking for injury as his eyes darted wildly around the cabin. “You said it was clear!”

Jungkook didn’t flinch. He remained at the edge of the cabin, his calm demeanor unshaken. “Said looks clear,” he replied evenly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lee’s glare could have melted steel. “What’s it look like now?”

Jungkook took another deliberate step forward, peering into the cabin again with an almost languid precision. “Still looks clear.”

Y/N bit back a sigh and climbed into the cabin behind them. “Just get the goddamn lights on,” she muttered, her tone sharp but resigned.

Jungkook let out a soft tongue-click as he followed her inside, a subtle sound of amusement that seemed aimed squarely at Lee. It wasn’t loud, but it carried enough weight to make Lee bristle. The older man turned to shoot him a glare, but Jungkook was already scanning the cabin, his focus elsewhere.

The cabin’s interior was a chaotic mess. Wires hung from the ceiling like vines, swaying slightly in the cool breeze that seeped in through unseen cracks. Broken screens flickered weakly on the control panels, their dying lights casting ghostly flashes across the walls. The faint smell of burnt electronics and charred fabric lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of spilled coolant.

“Peter, help me with the console,” Y/N called, gesturing toward the largest control panel.

Peter scrambled inside, his hands fumbling for the tools in his belt. “On it.”

“Anything moving?” Y/N asked, not looking up from the panel.

“Not yet,” Jungkook replied, his tone casual but vigilant. He lingered near the doorway, his eyes flitting toward every shadow that seemed too deep, every crevice that might conceal a threat.

Behind him, the others filed into the cabin, their nerves fraying as the light from the torch began to sputter and fade.

“Better hurry,” Leo said, her voice trembling as she huddled near the far wall.

Peter muttered a string of curses under his breath as he fiddled with the console. Sparks flew, and for a heart-stopping moment, the cabin plunged into near-total darkness. Then, with a stuttering hum, dim overhead lights flickered on, bathing the cabin in a pale, sickly glow.

“Got it!” Peter exclaimed, a note of relief in his voice.

The group collectively exhaled, but the momentary reprieve was short-lived. Outside, the clicking sounds grew louder, echoing like malevolent whispers carried on the wind.

“They know we’re here,” Jungkook said, his voice quiet but certain.

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened. “Then we better not waste any more time.”

Inside the cabin, the survivors moved with the frantic efficiency of people who knew time was their enemy. The dim, flickering cabin lights were no comfort, but they were enough to illuminate their task. Every second spent here felt stolen, borrowed against a debt they weren’t sure they could repay.

Peter crouched by the battery bay, his hands blackened with grease as he yanked out power cells one by one. The hollow clang of metal on metal reverberated through the cabin as he handed each cell off to Namjoon, who threaded nylon cords through the handles with a practiced, almost mechanical motion. Y/N stood nearby, filling the reservoirs of misting umbrellas with high-octane liquor they’d salvaged earlier. The sickly-sweet scent of the alcohol clung to the air, sharp and volatile.

Oxygen canisters clattered as they were swapped out, fresh ones locked into place with sharp clicks. These were preparations that carried an edge of desperation, a mix of hope and the quiet dread that they might not matter in the end.

Lee sat off to the side, reloading his shotgun. His fingers, once steady, now trembled as he slid each shell into the chamber. The shaking had grown worse over the past hour, and it wasn’t just from exhaustion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small red morphine shell, its glossy surface catching the weak light. For a moment, he stared at it like it was both a curse and a promise, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.

“Ready, Lee,” Y/N called, her voice cutting through the cabin’s muted chaos.

Lee’s head snapped up, his expression hardening as he quickly palmed the shell and shoved it back into his pocket. Rising to his feet, he slung the shotgun over his shoulder and muttered, “He’ll lead you over the first cliff, you know that, don’t you?”

Y/N paused, turning toward him with a calm but cutting look. “We’re just burning light here.”

“You give him the cells, give him the ship, and he’ll leave you,” Lee said, his voice low and acidic. “He’ll leave you all out there to die.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, studying him like a puzzle she had no interest in solving. “I don’t get it, Lee. What’s so goddamn valuable in your life that you’re worried about losing? Huh? Is there anything at all? Besides your next hit?”

He didn’t answer.

Her tone softened, though it lost none of its edge. “You’ve got no right to be this scared. Neither one of us does.”

The words lingered for a moment before the cabin lights flickered, sputtered, and died completely, plunging them into darkness.

Outside, a torch flared to life with a deafening roar, its fiery plume casting jagged shadows that danced across the surrounding landscape. Two misting umbrellas, their fabric already burned away, became impromptu flamethrowers, belching fireballs into the encroaching night. The sudden brightness illuminated the survivors in stark relief: Namjoon chained into the first harness of the drag-sled, his broad shoulders braced for the weight. Lee fumbled with the second harness, his trembling hands betraying his frustration.

Jungkook stood nearby, observing the scene with a faint smirk that barely touched his eyes. He leaned down to help Lee with the harness, the irony of the act not lost on either of them—the prisoner aiding his captor.

“Keep the light going,” Y/N called out, her voice sharp and steady over the crackle of flames. “That’s all we have to do to live through this. Just keep your light burning.”

Jungkook slipped a handlight over his neck, adjusting it so the beam cast a halo of illumination down his back. “I’ll be running about ten paces ahead,” he said to Y/N, his tone calm but commanding. “I want light on my back, not in my eyes. And check your cuts. These things know our blood now.”

At his words, Leo froze, her face draining of color. She clutched her torch tighter, as though it alone could keep the fear at bay.

Y/N stepped closer to Jungkook, her hesitation visible in the way her fingers fidgeted against her side. “Jungkook,” she began, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I was thinking we should make some kind of deal. Just in case… you know, this actually works.”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Had it with deals.”

“But I just wanted to say—”

“Nobody’s gonna turn a murderer loose,” he said flatly, though there was a bitter edge to his tone. “I fucking knew better.”

The words hung in the air like a warning, or perhaps an admission.

Y/N searched his face, her unease deepening. If he didn’t expect to go free, what was he planning?

“It’s been a long time since anyone trusted me,” Jungkook added, almost as an afterthought. “That’s something right there.”

“Can we, though?” Y/N asked softly, her voice trembling despite herself. “Trust you?”

Jungkook hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, with surprising candor, he replied, “Actually… that’s what I’ve been asking myself.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shadow stretching long and dark in the firelight.

Y/N watched him go, her chest tightening with a terrible, nagging thought: What if this was all a mistake?

The drag-sled groaned as it creaked into motion, a makeshift lifeline against the oppressive night. Jungkook took point, his goggles off, his sharp, gleaming eyes scanning the darkness ahead. The light strapped to his back swung rhythmically with his movements, a beacon that guided the rest of the group.

Namjoon and Lee strained against their harnesses, pulling the sled like beasts of burden. Their breath came in labored puffs, visible in the cold night air. Fireball torches flared intermittently at the edges of their procession—one held by Leo, the other by Y/N—casting brief but vital light into the shadows.

At the rear, Peter stumbled along, wielding the cutter like a shield, sweeping it in wide arcs that betrayed his growing paranoia. They moved as a fragile train of light, a living thread that barely held the encroaching darkness at bay.

On the sled sat four power cells and eight bottles of booze, the last remnants of their hope lashed precariously with fraying cords. The sled creaked with every step, a sound that seemed deafening in the eerie silence of the night. Y/N walked with one hand on the strap of her torch, her eyes scanning the ground as her boots crunched over loose gravel and sand. Her breath hitched when she spotted the faint outline of sand-cat tracks—a reminder of their fleeting connection to anything natural or familiar in this alien wasteland.

But then, as they trudged forward, the tracks vanished, swallowed by the shifting ground. Y/N’s gaze lingered on the empty path ahead, a heavy unease curling in her chest.

“So, you saw it too?” Lee muttered, his voice low and dripping with suspicion.

Before she could answer, Y/N lifted her head, her voice cutting through the rasp of their breathers. “Jungkook,” she called sharply, her tone demanding answers.

The group instinctively slowed, clustering tighter together under the protective glow of their torches. The faint hum of distant movement made the shadows seem alive.

“Where are the sand-cat tracks?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer to Jungkook. Her words came fast and clipped. “Why aren’t we still following them?”

Jungkook didn’t break stride, his gait smooth and deliberate, as if he didn’t feel the tension rising around him. “Saw something I didn’t like,” he said casually, his voice betraying no urgency.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Such as?”

He shrugged, an almost flippant gesture that felt maddening in the circumstances. “Hard to tell sometimes… even for me. Looked like a bunch of those big boys chewing each other’s gonads off. Thought we’d swing wide. Okay by you?”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, Peter visibly paling. He turned his head, his eyes darting to the darkness behind them. “We went around what?” he asked, his voice cracking under the strain.

The sound of clicking filled the air—soft, distant, but unmistakable.

“Let’s move,” Y/N ordered, her voice cutting through their hesitation. She placed a steadying hand on Leo’s shoulder, urging her forward. “Just a detour. He’ll get us there.”

Peter hesitated, his nerves clearly fraying. “Can we switch?”

Y/N frowned. “Switch what?”

“My position,” Peter said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I think I twisted my ankle running backward like that, and I’m not sure I can—” He faltered under the weight of their collective glares. “Okay, that’s a lie. I just don’t want to be alone back there anymore. If you could just give me a few minutes up front—”

“She’s the pilot,” Lee snapped. “She should stay close to the cells.”

Peter threw up his hands, exasperated. “Oh, so I’m disposable now?”

Y/N didn’t have the patience for the argument. “I’ll switch!” she barked, her frustration boiling over. “Christ, just get this train moving!”

The group shuffled awkwardly as Y/N moved to the rear guard. Peter exhaled in relief, gripping his torch tighter as he joined the side guard. But the clicking never stopped. It seemed to echo in their ears, sharper and closer with every step, like the rhythm of a predator's heartbeat.

A sputtering sound drew their attention. Peter’s torch flickered weakly, its fireball dimming to a dangerous glow. He glanced down, panic flashing across his face. “Light, please, need light here!”

Namjoon and Lee swung their beams toward him, but their movements left gaps in the group’s circle of illumination. In that brief moment, Leo drifted too far from the light.

The clicking shifted—sharp, high-pitched, and urgent.

“Leo!” Namjoon lunged forward, tackling her to the ground just as a scythe-like claw slashed through the air, skimming the chains of his harness with a metallic screech.

Lee spun, his shotgun snapping up instinctively. He fired into the darkness, the muzzle flash cutting through the shadows like lightning. The sound echoed, deafening in the stillness, but the predator had already vanished.

“Am I cut?” Namjoon’s voice trembled as he helped Leo to her feet. His hands fumbled for his light, flipping the switch over and over, but it remained stubbornly dark.

Behind them, Peter stumbled into the darkness. A sharp cry escaped him as something slashed across his back, tearing through fabric and flesh with sickening precision.

“Oh, sweet Jesus…” Peter’s voice was panicked, raw with fear. Blood dripped down his side, staining the ground in dark streaks. “Will you GET ME SOME LIGHT OVER HERE!”

The group turned, their torches sweeping wildly, but it was too late. A blur of motion darted from the shadows, dragging Peter into the abyss.

Jungkook stood still, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He didn’t chase after Peter; there was no point. Instead, he watched as the predators tore into him with terrifying efficiency, their movements frenzied and primal. A female predator arrived late to the feast, a youngling clinging to her back. Unable to find space among the others, she whipped the youngling off and devoured it instead.

Y/N stared, horrified, as the predators began turning on each other, ripping into flesh and bone with no semblance of order.

“They’re fighting,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook didn’t respond. His jaguar-like eyes tracked two of the creatures that had broken away from the carnage. Their heads tilted in unison, their sharp, angular features glinting faintly in the coronal light.

They were looking at Leo.

“What do you see?” Y/N asked, though she already feared the answer.

“Hunger,” Jungkook murmured, his voice low and weighted. “I see sixty years of hunger.”

Jungkook didn’t reply. The wind was picking up, carrying with it the ominous sound of distant thunder. It wasn’t a storm. It was the howl of predators closing in.

“Move!” Y/N shouted, her voice slicing through the rising tension.

Leo gripped Peter’s torch tightly, the flame spitting weak fireballs that barely lit the path ahead. Each step she took was uneven, but determination kept her moving forward. The torch was her lifeline, its faint light the only thing keeping the encroaching darkness at bay.

Y/N followed at the rear, her cutter sputtering in her hand before dying completely. She cursed under her breath and hurled it to the ground in frustration, her hand darting toward Leo’s torch.

“Bottle count,” she demanded, her voice sharp, urgency snapping like a whip.

Leo hesitated, glancing down at the flickering reservoir in her hand. “Four fulls. One half.” She hesitated, her voice dipping into a faint, hopeful question. “Does that mean we’re halfway there?”

Y/N didn’t answer. None of them really knew. The canyon was their destination, but it felt more like an endless nightmare with every step. Their only guide was the faint gleam of light reflecting off Jungkook’s back, his unshakable stride the closest thing they had to a compass.

“Can we pick up the pace?” Y/N urged, her tone cutting through the oppressive silence.

Lee, trudging just ahead of her, muttered something under his breath, too low to hear. His voice rose just enough as he threw a glance over his shoulder. “If you think you can do better…” His words trailed off, his breath catching as he suddenly thrust an arm across Namjoon’s chest.

Namjoon stumbled to a halt. “What is it?” he hissed, his own fear bubbling just below the surface.

Lee pointed ahead with his flashlight, the beam catching faint sled tracks etched into the sand. But something about them felt off—wrong in a way none of them could articulate.

Y/N barely had time to process what she was seeing when a metallic click shattered the fragile quiet. She whirled around, her beam landing on Lee as he stood free of his harness chains, his shotgun pressed firmly to the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“We aren’t that stupid,” Lee growled, his voice low and venomous.

“Stay in the light!” Y/N yelled, her voice strained with panic. “Everybody! Stay in the fucking—”

“We crossed our own tracks,” Namjoon interrupted, his voice tight and brittle.

“Look at them!” Lee barked, gesturing wildly to the marks in the sand. His eyes darted, pupils blown wide with barely-contained hysteria. “He’s running us in circles! Look for yourself!”

“Jungkook!” Y/N snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. She turned her full attention to the man at the front, her pulse pounding in her ears. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook didn’t flinch, even with the barrel of Lee’s shotgun against his neck. His voice was calm, deliberate. “Listen,” he said simply.

The sound came first—low, sharp, and relentless. It was an ominous clicking, growing louder with each passing moment, like a chorus of a hundred Geiger counters riding the wind.

“Canyon ahead,” Jungkook said, his tone even as if he wasn’t standing at gunpoint. “I circled once to buy time to think.”

“Think about what?” Y/N demanded, stepping closer, her heart hammering in her chest.

Jungkook turned his gaze to Leo, his expression unreadable. “About the girl,” he said evenly.

Y/N froze. The chill in his tone was enough to stop her breath. “Girl?”

“She’s bleeding,” Jungkook said, his words deliberate, each one heavy with meaning. “And they’ve been tracking her since we left the ship.”

Lee scoffed, his shotgun pressing harder against Jungkook’s neck. “Bullshit. Leo’s not cut—”

“No,” Jungkook agreed, his calm gaze still on Leo. “She wasn’t.”

Y/N turned to Leo, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. “Leo,” she whispered, dread clawing at her throat. “Is this true?”

Leo’s face crumpled, tears brimming in her eyes. Her voice was small, trembling with guilt. “I didn’t want you to leave me there… back at the ship. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, God,” Y/N murmured, stepping closer. Her voice softened, cracking with a mix of anger and pity. “Honey, you should’ve told me. You should’ve—”

Lee groaned loudly, cutting her off. “This is such bullshit. You’re telling me we’ve been hauling her bleeding ass across this death trap and didn’t know it?”

“They go off blood,” Jungkook said, his tone cold and devoid of sympathy. “They’ve had a scent since we started.”

“We keep her close,” Namjoon said firmly, his hand brushing Leo’s shoulder in reassurance. “She’ll be safe with us. We—”

“There is no safe,” Jungkook interrupted, his voice a grim, unshakable fact. His eyes swept across the group, lingering briefly on Y/N.

The wind gusted, carrying with it the sound of distant canyon walls and the growing cacophony of clicking. The predators were closing in, their hunt relentless.

Y/N’s voice wavered, her desperation plain. “It’s not gonna work. We’ve gotta go back.”

Lee barked a harsh laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “Go back? Are you out of your damn mind?” His grip tightened on the shotgun as he sneered. “You dragged me out here, and now you want me to crawl back to that hellhole of a ship?”

“I was wrong!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. “I made a bad call, okay? Now let’s just turn around before—”

“Before what?” Lee cut her off, stepping closer, his frustration spilling over into rage. “Before they find us? They’re already here, Captain. You think going back’s gonna fix that?”

“She’s the captain,” Namjoon said, his voice steady despite the rising tension. “We should listen to her.”

Lee turned on him, his shotgun shaking in his grip. “This captain nearly blew us to hell during the crash!”

“Lee!” Y/N shouted, her voice raw with anger and shame. “This isn’t helping!”

He ignored her, his gaze drilling into Leo. “She tried to kill us. All of us.”

Leo’s wide eyes flicked between them, her lip trembling. “What does he mean?”

“Enough!” Y/N roared, stepping between them. But Lee was already backing toward the sled, his light swaying wildly in the darkness.

“The light moves forward,” Lee said with mock finality, his voice dripping with disdain.

They moved through the boneyard like restless spirits, their progress deliberate and painstaking. Every step seemed to echo with the weight of desperation, their dwindling strength preserved for the canyon ahead. The barren expanse stretched endlessly in every direction, littered with twisted remnants of the past—bones, rusted scraps, and shadows that felt too alive.

At the back, Y/N lagged, her shoulders slumped and movements sluggish, like a rudder barely keeping a ship from capsizing. She kept her eyes on the ground, the grit and debris underfoot a welcome distraction from the oppressive silence. Up front, Yeonjun and Namjoon strained against the sled, their breaths coming in sharp, labored gasps as they dragged its cumbersome load. Each step forward felt like pulling against the earth itself.

Jungkook led the group with an eerie composure, his figure cutting through the haze with unnerving confidence. Beside him, Lee matched his pace, his shotgun resting casually over one shoulder. His presence was a heavy weight, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried an edge that sliced through the stillness.

“Ain’t all of us gonna make it,” he said, his tone almost conversational, as though delivering a fact rather than a death sentence.

Jungkook didn’t look at him. His response was as sharp as a blade. “Just realized that, huh?”

A clicking sound interrupted the tense quiet. It was distant at first, faint and fragmented, but it grew louder with each beat, quick and insistent like a predator honing in on its prey. The sound skittered through the night air, prickling along their spines and setting every nerve on edge.

Lee reacted first, spinning on his heel as the shotgun roared, the explosion of sound ripping through the silence. The muzzle flash flared bright, casting jagged shadows before plunging the group back into darkness. Whatever had made the sound darted away, leaving nothing but the acrid tang of gunpowder and the echo of the shot lingering in their ears.

The group halted, startled and shaken by the violence of the moment. Lee cocked the shotgun with a practiced motion, the click almost casual. His faint smirk, barely visible in the dim light, radiated smug satisfaction.

“Six of us left,” Lee said, his voice smooth, laced with an edge that made the words cut deeper. “If we get through that canyon and lose just one, I’d call that a miracle. A damn good one, too.”

“Not if I’m the one,” Jungkook replied, finally meeting Lee’s gaze. His tone was dry, dark humor threading through his words.

Lee tilted his head, the faint glint in his eyes turning sharp. “What if you’re one of five?”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t shift, but the subtle narrowing of his eyes spoke volumes. He said nothing, and in his silence, the weight of his consideration hung heavy.

Farther back, Leo squinted at the wavering light ahead. “What’re they doing up there?” she asked, her voice hushed but nervous.

Namjoon walked beside her, his movements tight with tension despite his attempt at a casual tone. “Talking about the canyon,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice was obvious. “Figuring out how to get us through, probably.”

Behind them, Y/N’s gaze was locked on the silhouettes of Jungkook and Lee. Their movements were synchronized in a way that made her stomach churn—two wolves prowling side by side, a partnership forged in shared ruthlessness. The sight sent a chill creeping down her spine.

Ahead, Lee leaned toward Jungkook, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s nasty business,” he said. “But it’s no worse than what a battlefield doc does. They call it triage.”

Jungkook’s reply was as cold as the steel glint in his eyes. “Funny. They called it murder when I did it.”

Lee waved a dismissive hand, brushing the comment aside like a bothersome insect. “Call it what you want,” he said. “It’s something you can wrap your head around.”

Jungkook didn’t respond, his expression an unreadable mask, but the silence between them was an invitation for Lee to continue.

“We make a sacrifice play,” Lee explained, his voice turning disturbingly conversational. “One body at the canyon’s entrance. Call it chum in the water.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his dark amusement flickering faintly. “You’d drag it behind us with the sled cable,” he guessed, his tone dry and detached.

“Exactly,” Lee said, nodding. “Just enough to keep those land sharks off our scent. We don’t feed ‘em—we just distract ‘em.”

Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to the group, lingering on each face for a moment too long. When he spoke, his words were deliberate, carefully chosen. “So,” he said softly, “which one caught your eye?”

Lee muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed ahead, as though refusing to meet Jungkook’s eyes absolved him. “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

From the rear, Y/N caught the exchange, the way Lee averted his gaze and the way Jungkook’s lingered. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot of unease. “Namjoon,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” Namjoon turned to her, his brows furrowed.

“Slow down,” Y/N hissed, her urgency cutting through his hesitation. “Don’t stop—just slow down. Put some distance between us and them.”

Namjoon hesitated, torn between instinct and her pleading tone. “We should stay together—”

“Just do it,” she said, desperation sharpening her words. “Please.”

Ahead, Jungkook’s voice broke the fragile silence. “What’s her name, anyway?”

Lee shot him a sharp look, defensive. “What do you care?”

Jungkook shrugged, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “I don’t.”

“Then don’t name the turkey,” Lee muttered. “Keep it simple. You still got a shiv, right?”

Jungkook’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained devoid of humor. “You expect me to do it?”

Lee’s tone turned mocking, disdain dripping from every word. “What’s one more? You think this is the one that punches your ticket to hell?”

“Oh, you’re a masterpiece, Lee,” Jungkook replied, his voice calm but steeped in contempt. “They should hang you in a museum. Or just hang you.”

The group behind them slowed further, the gap between them growing wider. Y/N kept her focus on the pair ahead, dread pooling in her gut as she watched the silent exchange.

“All right,” Lee said after a moment, his tone sharpening. “You do the girl. I’ll keep the others off your back.”

Jungkook stopped abruptly, turning his head to study Lee with unsettling curiosity.

“Don’t tell me you’re growin’ a conscience,” Lee sneered, exasperation edging his voice.

Jungkook shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “What if we need a bigger piece of chum?”

Lee froze, his shoulders stiffening as the meaning behind the words settled over him. “Like who, Mr. Chrislam?” he snapped.

The night pressed in around them, the flickering torchlight offering little solace. From the rear, Y/N gripped Leo’s torch tightly, the flames sputtering like a dying star. The weight of their reality bore down on her, and as the group moved in uneasy silence, the dread gnawed at her relentlessly.

“Bottle count,” Y/N demanded, her voice sharp, taut as a drawn wire.

Leo hesitated, her eyes flicking nervously to the dwindling torchlight. “Four fulls, one half. Does that mean we’re halfway there? I hope?”

Y/N didn’t respond, her focus fixed on the light bobbing on Jungkook’s back, a ghostly beacon in the suffocating gloom. His silent, purposeful stride cut through the night like a blade. She tightened her grip on the torch, the heat a meager comfort against the growing dread. “Can we pick up the pace?”

Ahead, Lee trudged with the slow, unrelenting gait of a beast bearing too much weight. He muttered under his breath, “If you think you can do better...” The words faded as he suddenly threw an arm out, halting Namjoon. His gaze dropped to the ground. Tracks. Their own tracks, forming a circle.

The ominous click of a shotgun being cocked shattered the air like a gunshot itself. Y/N whirled just in time to see Lee, unchained and unhinged, pressing the barrel against the back of Jungkook’s neck. His grin was a predator’s snarl, all teeth and venom. “We aren’t completely stupid,” he growled.

“Stay in the light!” Y/N barked, her voice rising above the chaos. “Everybody! Stay in the fucking light!”

Namjoon’s voice trembled. “We’ve crossed our own tracks.”

Jungkook didn’t flinch, his calm defying the shotgun at his nape. “Listen,” he said, his voice like iron against the storm.

Then came the sound—a metallic hum riding the wind, sharp and insistent, like a hundred Geiger counters ticking in unison. It crawled under their skin, making their bones itch.

“Canyon ahead,” Jungkook explained, his tone unnervingly steady. “I circled once to buy time to think.”

“Think about what?” Y/N demanded, her voice like a whip crack.

“About how to kill us and still get those cells to the skiff,” Lee snarled, his anger boiling over. “We’re just the mules for this bastard!”

The accusation hit Y/N like a hammer blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her mind reeled, dread coiling tight in her stomach.

Lee moved before she could process it. The shotgun swung wide, and the world exploded into chaos.

“Bring the light!” Y/N shouted, her voice cutting through the panic. “Leave the sled! Move, now!”

The torchlight hit the ground, casting a harsh, flickering circle around them. Jungkook and Lee collided, a feral clash of bodies and brute force. They grappled like wild animals, their movements raw and savage, the shotgun skittering away into the darkness.

Jungkook moved with a predator’s grace, his shiv glinting faintly in the dying light as he sidestepped Lee’s first clumsy swing. His movements were measured, precise—each step deliberate, like a hunter toying with wounded prey.

“Gotta stay in the light, Lee,” Jungkook taunted, his voice low and cutting, sharp enough to bite through the heavy tension in the air. “That’s the only rule.”

Lee’s breath came in harsh, ragged bursts as he circled, his boots grinding against the brittle bones scattered beneath their feet. His eyes darted nervously between the dim circle of light and Jungkook, who seemed almost to dissolve into the encroaching darkness, reappearing only when he moved closer to strike.

With a growl of frustration, Lee lunged, swinging wildly. Jungkook ducked under the blow with a fluid ease that was almost nonchalant, his shiv flashing upward in a shallow slice across Lee’s forearm. Blood welled immediately, dripping onto the ground.

“Damn you,” Lee hissed, clutching his arm as he stumbled back.

“Not yet,” Jungkook replied, his voice cold, mocking. “You’ll know when it happens.”

Lee’s hand scrabbled desperately across the ground until it found purchase on a jagged rib-bone. He swung it upward with both hands, aiming for Jungkook’s head, but the blow never landed.

Jungkook sidestepped again, faster this time, and slammed his boot into Lee’s ribs. The force of the kick sent Lee staggering backward, his grip on the makeshift club faltering. The bone clattered to the ground as Jungkook closed the distance, his shiv darting forward like a striking serpent.

“Should’ve kept the chains on, Lee,” Jungkook murmured as the blade nicked Lee’s shoulder. His tone was conversational, dripping with disdain. “You had guts back then. Now look at you—Billy Bad-Ass, all bark and no bite.”

Lee lunged again, his movements growing more desperate with each passing second. He managed to shove Jungkook off-balance, sending them both sprawling into the circle of light.

Lee rolled first, scrambling toward the fallen shotgun. His fingers brushed the barrel just as Jungkook grabbed his ankle, yanking him backward with such force that he slammed face-first into the ground. Blood smeared across the dirt as Lee spat a curse, twisting to kick at Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t flinch. He caught Lee’s boot mid-kick and twisted, eliciting a sharp crack from Lee’s ankle. Lee howled in pain, collapsing onto his back.

“You’re making this too easy,” Jungkook said, his voice dripping with disappointment as he rose to his feet. He stepped deliberately into the narrow cone of light cast by the discarded torch, his expression cold and unreadable.

Lee clawed at the ground, dragging himself toward the shotgun with trembling hands. He reached it, curling his fingers around the stock, and turned with a feral grin.

“Still Billy Bad-Ass,” Lee rasped, blood staining his teeth as he swung the weapon upward.

But then the light flickered, stuttering like a dying heartbeat. Shadows surged forward, thick and consuming, swallowing the edges of the circle.

Lee froze, his grin faltering. The clicking returned—closer now, sharp and insistent, a metallic cacophony that prickled along their spines.

Jungkook stepped back, his dark eyes glinting as he watched Lee’s panic mount.

“You feel that?” Jungkook asked, his voice soft, almost curious. “That’s what real fear feels like, Lee. No shotgun’s gonna save you now.”

The darkness swallowed the last remnants of light, leaving only the sound—the deafening CLICKING—and Lee’s ragged, terrified breaths.

The predator struck like a living shadow, silent and sudden. It lifted Lee effortlessly, its massive form outlined only by faint starlight. For a moment, it seemed almost curious, its blade-like appendage tracing along Lee’s body with a grotesque sort of delicacy.

Lee’s screams shattered the silence, high-pitched and guttural. The predator paused, as if savoring the sound, before driving its blade home with a sickening crunch.

Jungkook stood motionless, his silhouette blending into the shadows as the predator retreated, dragging Lee’s limp body into the void. The clicking faded, leaving only silence.

When Y/N, Namjoon, and Leo caught up, Jungkook stood motionless in the shadows, his figure outlined by the faint glow of their approaching torches. His goggles glinted like the eyes of a predator at rest, his posture deceptively calm.

“Where’s Mr. Lee?” Namjoon asked, his voice trembling, the question catching in his throat.

Jungkook tilted his head, his tone almost casual, though his words cut like glass. “Which half?”

Leo froze, her face crumpling under the weight of the answer. “Gonna lose everybody out here,” she whispered, her voice breaking like brittle glass. Her grip on the bottle she held faltered, and it slipped slightly before she caught it.

For a moment, something unspoken passed through Jungkook’s gaze—a fleeting softness, gone as quickly as it appeared. “He died fast,” he said quietly, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “And if we have any choice, that’s how we should all go out.”

He crouched to Leo’s level, his presence commanding but his tone almost tender. “Don’t cry for Lee,” Jungkook said firmly, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Don’t you dare. Tears out here are a waste.”

Above them, the canyon roared with noise—clicking, snapping, the grotesque wet sounds of rending flesh and the unmistakable crunch of bone. It was a symphony of death, the air heavy with dread and the acrid smell of decay.

The small group stood on the edge of the boneyard, their torches casting trembling halos of light into the encroaching darkness. The skeletal remains scattered across the ground seemed to mock their efforts, whispering the inevitability of their fate.

“How many do you see?” Y/N asked, forcing her voice to steady despite the knot of fear in her chest.

Jungkook’s head turned slightly, his goggles reflecting the faint light like the eyes of some nocturnal beast. “One. Maybe two.”

Y/N glanced toward Leo. “What do we have left?”

Leo’s hand trembled as she checked their remaining supply. “Three full bottles. But it’s almost time to refill.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Y/N cursed under her breath. “Doesn’t sound like enough to double back.”

Jungkook shrugged, a grim smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Doesn’t matter. Only one way now.”

“What way?” Namjoon asked cautiously.

Jungkook gestured toward the sled. “Turn it over, drag it like a shield. Keep the girl down low. Light everything we’ve got—and run through like dogs on fire.”

Namjoon frowned, his voice hesitant. “The sled... as a shield?”

“It’ll buy us seconds,” Jungkook replied, his voice steady and too calm.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “And the cells?”

Jungkook’s smirk widened slightly. “I’ll take those.”

Her gaze bore into him, sharp and unyielding. “We’re just here to carry your light, aren’t we? Just the torch-bearers.”

Jungkook met her stare without flinching. “Let’s drop back and boot up.”

They set to work among the skeletal ruins, their movements urgent but controlled. Jungkook lashed the cells together with strips of fabric, fashioning a crude harness as Namjoon stood close by, murmuring softly under his breath.

Jungkook glanced at him, his hands tightening the knots. “What’re you mumbling about?”

Namjoon hesitated, then answered, “Blessing you. Like the others.”

Jungkook huffed a humorless laugh. “Waste of breath.”

“It’s not,” Namjoon said softly, his voice unwavering. “Even if you don’t believe in God, that doesn’t mean He won’t—”

Jungkook cut him off, his voice low and sharp. “Oh, I believe in God. You don’t spend half your life locked up with a horse-bit in your mouth and not believe. You don’t start out in a liquor store trash bin with an umbilical cord wrapped around your neck and not believe.” His gaze turned icy, his tone colder still. “I believe in Him. And I hate the fucker.”

Namjoon swallowed hard but said nothing.

Jungkook adjusted the harness with practiced efficiency, his voice softening slightly. “Save your blessings for the girl. She’ll need a spare.”

When they reached the start of the gauntlet, their torches burned brighter than ever, every flame stoked to its limit. Y/N and Namjoon strapped themselves to the overturned sled, their breathers hissing in sync. Leo crawled beneath the sled, curling into its shadow, her trembling hands clutching the last remaining bottles. Yeonjun clung to his handlight, his knuckles white with strain.

Jungkook stood apart, his goggles in place, his expression unreadable as he shouldered the harnessed cells. “As fast as you can,” he said to Y/N, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“You sure you can—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp glare.

“As fast as you can,” he repeated, his voice final.

The group surged forward.

The sled scraped and jolted as Y/N and Namjoon pulled with everything they had, their muscles straining under the weight. Leo kept low, her breaths audible and panicked, while Yeonjun stumbled alongside, his light bobbing erratically.

Behind them, Jungkook moved like a machine, the harness digging into his shoulders as he dragged the cells through the boneyard. The torches painted wild, flickering patterns on the canyon walls, creating a fragile wall of light that barely held back the encroaching shadows.

Above, predators launched from the canyon rim, their shadows stretching like monstrous wings against the jagged rock faces. Their cries, sharp and guttural, echoed through the narrow pass, amplifying the chaos. The first wave of hatchlings swarmed toward the torchlight, their sleek, scaled bodies darting like arrows. At the last second, they veered away, repelled by the searing flames.

“Don’t look!” Jungkook’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding over the cacophony.

Thin streaks of glowing blue liquid splattered down from above, hissing as they hit the hot, rocky ground. Y/N instinctively glanced upward, a decision she regretted instantly. The sky above was alive with writhing forms—predators slashing and tearing at one another in a frenzy of hunger and rage. Wings and limbs tangled, snapping bones and spilling glowing blood as they collided mid-air. The sheer size and ferocity of the beasts made her breath catch in her throat.

“Do not look up!” Jungkook barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Eyes on the ground! Keep going, keep going, keep going!”

Y/N forced her gaze downward, her heart hammering as she quickened her pace. The ground was slick with the iridescent, metallic-smelling blood of the creatures, and the sickening thuds of entrails raining from above filled the air. It was like running through a storm of gore.

Namjoon’s voice rose above the chaos, calm and unwavering despite the madness. “So dark the clouds around my way, I cannot see. But through the darkness, I believe God leadeth me...” His words, steady and rhythmic, cut through the noise like a fragile lifeline.

The rain of bodies intensified. Broken predators slammed into the ground with bone-shaking force, their corpses twisting grotesquely as they landed. One crashed dangerously close to Yeonjun, its razor-edged blade slicing across his leg. He staggered, biting down a cry of pain, and kept moving, his face pale but determined.

Ahead, the canyon loomed like the gaping maw of some ancient beast, its jagged walls narrowing to form a sinister throat. Every sound seemed magnified, the clicking, snapping, and howling bouncing off the rock, trapping them in a symphony of terror.

Y/N’s torchlight revealed the choke-point first: a grotesque barricade of predator corpses piled high across the path, steaming and glistening with fresh blood. The tangled mass of bodies looked like the aftermath of a brutal battle, their twisted forms creating a barrier that blocked the way forward. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat.

“Jungkook?” she called, her voice edged with panic. “JUNGKOOK?”

Jungkook stopped just ahead of the group, his silhouette stark against the flickering torchlight. He turned his head slightly, his tone flat and grim. “It’s a fucking staircase,” he said, his voice cold. “Go over it. GO OVER IT!”

Leo was the first to move, her torch quivering in her hands as she crouched down, using the corpses as handholds to climb. The stench of death clung to her, the heat rising from the pile making her gag. Her foot slipped on the slick surface of a predator’s shredded wing, and she choked back a cry.

Then one of the “dead” predators moved.

Its head snapped toward her, razor-sharp teeth gnashing as it lunged. Leo screamed, jerking back, and lost her footing completely. She tumbled down the mound of bodies, landing hard at the base, exposed in the flickering light.

“Leo!” Y/N shouted, already scrambling down after her.

Leo barely had time to roll to her side before a massive predator slammed onto the sled-shield she had been crawling beneath. Bone-blades pierced through the metal with a deafening screech, missing her by mere inches. The creature howled, thrashing violently as it tried to free itself from the shield. Its fury was palpable, steam rising from its heaving body as the torchlight illuminated its jagged, serrated form.

Jungkook was a blur of movement.

He stepped to the edge of the light, his posture eerily calm, his muscles coiled like a predator himself. The creature turned to face him, its clicking intensifying into a furious crescendo. It lunged, its scythe-like blades slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Jungkook dodged, his movements impossibly fast and fluid. He slid under the predator’s chest, his shiv flashing as it carved deep into its vulnerable underbelly. Blue blood sprayed, hissing as it hit the ground.

The predator screamed, a sound so piercing it made Y/N’s ears ring. It reared back, swiping wildly, but Jungkook was relentless. He moved like a shadow, every step calculated, every strike precise. The creature lunged again, its massive jaws snapping shut where Jungkook had been just a second before.

“Stay down, Leo!” Y/N yelled, dragging the girl back toward the shield as the battle raged.

Jungkook ducked under another swipe, his shiv slicing through the creature’s tendon. It stumbled, one of its legs collapsing beneath it. He didn’t hesitate. In a single fluid motion, he vaulted onto its back, driving his blade into the base of its skull. The predator convulsed violently, its death throes shaking the ground.

Jungkook leapt clear just as the creature collapsed, its massive form slamming into the pile of corpses with a sickening crunch.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the labored breathing of the group. Jungkook turned, his face streaked with blue blood, his eyes unreadable behind his goggles.

“Get up,” he said to Leo, his voice steady but firm. “We’re not stopping here.”

He gestured toward the pile. “Over it. Now.”

Y/N helped Leo to her feet, her own legs trembling as she nodded. They climbed the barricade, the others following close behind. The sound of clicking returned, growing louder, the darkness behind them shifting as more predators closed in.

Jungkook glanced back once, his expression grim. “Move faster. Or you’ll find out how fast I can’t save you.”

A piercing, shrieking click cut through the air, reverberating off the canyon walls. Jungkook spun instinctively, his movements sharp and precise. Above them, a monstrous shape unfurled, its hammer-shaped head swaying like a deadly pendulum. The creature’s pale, segmented body shimmered grotesquely in the faint light, its sinewy muscles rippling as it prepared to strike.

Hot, rancid breath washed over them, thick and suffocating. The predator loomed closer, every inch of it screaming lethal intent. Y/N felt her limbs lock in place, her instincts fighting against the primal urge to run.

Jungkook, however, was already moving. His hand darted to his belt, and with a metallic whisper, he unsheathed his shiv. The blade caught the faint flicker of torchlight, gleaming like a sliver of salvation.

The beast lunged, its hammerhead smashing down toward Jungkook with a force that cracked the earth beneath it. But Jungkook had already sidestepped, the ground where he’d stood exploding into shards of stone and dust.

“Back up!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip.

Y/N and Namjoon obeyed immediately, stumbling backward as they dragged Leo and the sled-shield with them. The predator rose again, its massive frame casting long, twisting shadows. It released a guttural howl, its hammerhead shifting slightly to reveal serrated mandibles that snapped together with terrifying precision.

Jungkook didn’t falter. His expression remained cold and unyielding, his eyes locked on the beast. He moved with the calculated grace of a predator himself, circling the creature, his shiv gripped tightly in his hand.

The creature lunged a second time, faster and more deliberate. Its head whipped through the air with a sound like a breaking whip, aiming to crush him. But Jungkook dropped low, sliding forward beneath its torso with lethal precision.

In a single, fluid motion, he drove his blade upward. The shiv’s edge found the soft, pale flesh of the beast’s underbelly, slicing through with sickening ease. Blue, viscous blood sprayed out in a violent arc, steaming as it hit the cold rocks.

The creature let out a bone-rattling shriek, a sound so loud and alien it felt like it might tear the sky apart. Its segmented legs spasmed wildly, gouging the ground as it staggered. Blue blood poured from the gash Jungkook had made, its innards spilling out in a grotesque heap of steaming flesh.

Jungkook rolled clear as the beast crumpled, its body convulsing once before collapsing in a heap. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning gore.

He rose to his feet, his movements steady and controlled. Without a second thought, he wiped the blade clean on the predator’s hide, blue streaks staining his fingers. His breathing was calm, almost unnervingly so, as if slaying such a monstrous foe was routine.

Turning back to the group, Jungkook’s face was unreadable beneath the streaks of blue ichor smeared across his skin. His eyes, however, burned with a glint of something dangerous and unyielding.

Y/N and Namjoon stared at him, frozen in shock, their breaths ragged and shallow. Even Leo, half-hidden beneath the sled, peeked out with wide, horrified eyes.

“Didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with,” Jungkook muttered, his tone flat but laced with a quiet venom.

There was no time to linger. The distant clicking and howling of more predators echoed from deeper in the canyon, the sound growing louder. Jungkook turned away from the beast’s steaming corpse, his focus already shifting to the next threat.

Namjoon’s voice broke the silence, panicked and raw. “Yeonjun! Where’s Yeonjun?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop moving. He gestured sharply toward the sled. “Get the girl back under. Keep going,” he ordered.

“YEONJUN!” Namjoon shouted again, his voice cracking with desperation.

Jungkook’s tone turned lethal, a growl that cut through the canyon air. “KEEP GOING OR I WILL!”

Before they could argue, Yeonjun reappeared—but not in the way they’d hoped. He was thrown into the flickering light by some unseen force, his body a broken, jerking silhouette. Blood streamed from jagged wounds, his limbs twitching feebly as he reached out, his eyes wide with terror.

“Yeonjun!” Namjoon surged forward, but before he could reach him, the boy was yanked back into the darkness by a pair of glistening mandibles. His scream was cut short, swallowed by the clicking and howling of the predators.

Jungkook didn’t look back. “Move!” he barked. “Now!”

The group stumbled forward, dragging the sled-shield and their trembling bodies into the widening canyon. The worst of the sounds began to fall behind them, the predators momentarily distracted by their own frenzied feeding. Y/N dared to hope—just for a second—that they might survive.

But then the torches sputtered.

Leo froze beneath the sled, staring at the shield above her as faint pattering sounds hit the metal. At first, it was soft, almost like mist. Then it grew heavier, louder.

“What’s that?” she whispered.

Y/N extended her hand past the edge of the sled, catching the liquid on her palm. Her stomach churned as she realized it wasn’t blood.

“Rain,” Namjoon murmured, his voice hollow.

The downpour came fast and relentless, extinguishing one torch after another. The flames hissed and sputtered, fighting for survival before dying entirely. They were plunged into near-total darkness, the air heavy with the metallic scent of wet rock and desperation.

Jungkook ripped off his goggles, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. He stared up at the black void above, his lips curling into a snarl. “So where the hell’s God now, huh?” he growled, his voice bitter and venomous. “I’ll tell you where! He’s up there, PISSING ON ME!”

“Jungkook!” Y/N’s voice was sharp, cutting through his anger. “How close?”

He squinted into the darkness, his face giving nothing away.

“Tell me the settlement is right there!” she pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation. “JUNGKOOK, PLEASE!”

His answer gutted her. “We can’t make it.”

The sound behind them swelled, the predators closing in. Jungkook’s gaze darted to the canyon wall, spotting a narrow fissure in the rock. He pointed sharply. “Here. Hide here.”

They scrambled toward the crevice, Leo crawling beneath the sled as Y/N and Namjoon wedged themselves into the narrow space. The last torch flickered and died, leaving them in utter darkness.

Y/N hesitated, watching as Jungkook moved to lift the sled-shield, sliding it over the opening like a makeshift barrier.

“Why’s he still out there?” Leo whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/N didn’t answer. She didn’t know. Was he protecting them? Or leaving them to fend for themselves?

Jungkook’s silhouette lingered outside for a moment, his shiv gleaming faintly as he faced the growing darkness. The sounds of clicking and snapping grew louder, closing in. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on the blade.

“I’ll buy you time,” he said quietly, more to himself than to them. “Stay hidden. Don’t move.”

Then he stepped away from the crevice, swallowed by the shadows.

Outside, the storm raged with relentless fury, rain pouring down in sheets that turned the rocky ground into a slick, treacherous incline. Jungkook planted his boots firmly in the mud, every step a battle as he hauled the cells up the slope. The harness straps bit into his shoulders, the weight of the cells dragging him backward with every movement. His muscles burned, veins bulging as he gritted his teeth against the strain.

The wind howled, carrying with it the faint, distant echoes of predators’ clicks and howls, a haunting reminder that the danger was far from over. But Jungkook didn’t waver. He bent his body into the climb, his breath coming in harsh bursts, the sound swallowed by the cacophony of the storm.

Finally, his boots found purchase on the uneven ground near the top of the rise. With one last, herculean effort, he heaved the cells over the edge, collapsing to his knees in the mud for a fleeting moment. Rain lashed at his face, plastering his hair to his forehead and running in rivulets down his sharp features. He ignored it, his chest heaving as he forced himself upright.

And then he saw it.

The settlement.

Faintly illuminated by the glow of the skiff’s engines, it lay in the distance, a flickering beacon of hope against the oppressive darkness. Its lights shimmered through the rain, blurred by the sheets of water cascading from the heavens, but it was there. Real. A sanctuary within reach.

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on the sight, his jaw tightening. Relief tried to claw its way into his chest, but he shoved it down. There was no room for celebration, not yet. Not until the others were here. Not until they were all safe.

He gripped the harness straps again, his fingers slipping briefly on the rain-soaked leather. A grim determination settled over him, his expression hardening like stone. He adjusted the weight of the cells, bending slightly to center it, and began moving again.

Each step was deliberate, methodical, as he dragged the cells through the thickening mud. The rain intensified, hammering down with almost punishing force, but he didn’t falter. His boots slipped occasionally, sending jolts through his body as he corrected his balance, but he kept his focus forward, his eyes locked on the faint glow ahead.

The storm seemed to rise against him, as if the world itself were trying to keep him from reaching that distant light. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the canyon walls behind him in stark flashes, revealing shapes that moved too fast to be human. He didn’t look back.

The weight of the cells bore down on him, the straps digging deeper into his shoulders, his back screaming in protest. But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

With a final push, he crested the incline, dragging the cells fully onto the flat ground beyond. For a moment, he paused, his silhouette stark against the storm-lit backdrop. Rain plastered his shirt to his frame, water dripping from his lashes as he gazed out at the settlement.

Without looking back, he adjusted the straps once more.

The crevice was cold and damp, the muffled sounds of the storm outside a constant reminder of the chaos just beyond their fragile sanctuary. Leo huddled closer to Y/N, her small frame trembling as much from fear as from the chill. Her voice was barely above a whisper, strained and fragile, as though speaking louder might shatter the fragile silence. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the question. She tightened her grip on the girl, pulling her closer, though her own thoughts churned with doubt and dread. Her gaze shifted to Namjoon, who sat hunched against the wall, his face shadowed and unreadable. “Did Jungkook say anything to you?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Namjoon’s head lifted slightly, and he shook it, his expression neutral but weighted with unspoken thoughts. “No,” he said simply, his tone calm but offering no comfort.

Y/N opened her mouth to press further, but something stopped her. She squinted at Namjoon, her brow furrowing. It wasn’t his face—no, it was the fact that she could see it. The dim, suffocating darkness that had surrounded them since they entered the crevice was no longer absolute. A faint light illuminated the space, soft and bluish, like a distant star.

“There’s light in here,” she said, her voice tinged with confusion and a flicker of hope.

Namjoon noticed it too. He pushed himself up, his eyes scanning the rocky walls of the crevice. Slowly, he climbed higher, his hands brushing along the slick surface until they found the source. “It’s here,” he murmured, plucking at something clinging to the stone.

He descended carefully, holding his hand out to Y/N and Leo. In his palm were faintly glowing shapes, tiny and delicate, their soft blue-white light pulsing faintly like the beat of a distant heart.

“Larva,” Namjoon said, his voice hushed as though he feared disturbing the fragile creatures.

Leo leaned in closer, her wide eyes reflecting the glow. “Glow worms,” she whispered, awe mingling with exhaustion.

Y/N stared at the glimmering larvae, her mind snapping into motion like a gear clicking into place. The light was faint, but it was light. It had potential. “How many bottles do we have?” she asked suddenly, her voice taking on an urgent edge. “Empty ones?”

Namjoon frowned, the question catching him off guard. “Maybe two, three?” he guessed, glancing toward the sled.

“Check,” Y/N ordered, her voice brisk now. She shifted Leo off her lap gently but firmly, her mind already piecing together a plan.

Namjoon nodded, crawling over to the sled where the group’s supplies had been hastily stowed. He rummaged through the bags, pulling out three empty glass bottles, their surfaces slick with condensation.

Y/N examined the larvae still glowing in Namjoon’s palm, then the faint traces on the wall above them. They were scattered, but there were enough to work with. Carefully, she reached out to one of the glowing clusters on the wall. It stuck to her fingers, its glow intensifying slightly as she transferred it into an empty bottle.

“We can use this,” she said, her mind racing. “If we can gather enough, we can make light. Not like the torches, but enough to see—enough to move.”

“But won’t the predators see it too?” Leo asked hesitantly, her fear still overriding her budding hope.

Y/N nodded. “That’s the goal. Light keeps those fuckers away.”

Namjoon passed her another bottle, and Y/N worked quickly, carefully gathering more of the bioluminescent larvae from the walls. Leo watched her hands move, her awe slowly returning. “They’re...beautiful,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Namjoon stood back, watching the bottles begin to glow brighter as they filled with the pulsing larvae. His expression softened for the first time since they’d entered the crevice. “It’s something,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

“It’s a start,” Y/N corrected, holding up the glowing bottle like a fragile beacon. “Now we just have to survive long enough for it to matter.”

The rain hammered down relentlessly, turning the settlement into a glistening, muddy expanse. Every surface gleamed under the rhythmic assault, and the air buzzed with the sharp tang of ozone and wet metal. Jungkook stood in the skiff’s cockpit, his face illuminated by the dim glow of its dormant control panel. He wiped his soaked brow with the back of his hand, his fingers trembling—not from fear, but from the bone-deep exhaustion that clawed at him.

The skiff was old. Its metal frame bore the scars of countless missions: scratches, scorch marks, and hastily patched-over dents. Inside, wires dangled from an open panel beneath the dashboard, sparking faintly as rainwater dripped onto them. Jungkook muttered a curse under his breath, dropping to one knee to get to work.

He yanked his toolkit from a side compartment, flipping it open with a snap. Tools clattered inside—a tangled mess of spanners, screwdrivers, and salvaged parts that looked as battered as the skiff itself. Grabbing a pair of pliers and a wire cutter, Jungkook leaned into the open panel, his eyes narrowing as he examined the mess of frayed wires and corroded circuits.

The primary ignition system was fried. The storm’s earlier surge must’ve shorted it out. Jungkook’s jaw tightened as he traced the damage, his fingers working methodically to strip away the melted insulation and reveal the intact copper beneath.

“Come on,” he growled, his voice low, almost a prayer to the skiff’s battered machinery. “You’ve been through worse. Don’t die on me now.”

He cut and reconnected wires, twisting them tightly together before sealing the joins with a strip of adhesive tape he’d salvaged from the settlement’s dwindling supplies. Sparks flew as he tested the connection, but the hum of power returning to the system sent a flicker of hope through him.

Jungkook shoved himself out from under the dashboard and slammed the panel closed. Standing, he reached for the control lever, his knuckles white as he pulled it. The skiff groaned in protest, the engines sputtering weakly before falling silent again.

“Damn it!” he spat, slamming his fist against the console.

The rain continued its relentless assault, pooling around his boots as he climbed out of the cockpit. He scrambled onto the rear deck, where the exposed engine compartment loomed like the heart of a dying beast. Peeling back the protective cover, Jungkook grimaced at the sight of water pooling in the housing.

Grabbing a hand pump, he worked quickly to siphon the rainwater out, his muscles burning with the effort. His breath came in short bursts, misting in the cold air as he worked, his focus unwavering.

Once the water was cleared, Jungkook leaned over the engine, inspecting the fuel cells he’d hauled up from the canyon earlier. One of them was cracked, the faint smell of leaking fuel mixing with the rain-soaked air. He switched it out with a spare, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

“Almost there,” he muttered to himself, tightening the last connection.

Back in the cockpit, Jungkook wiped his hands on his damp pants and gripped the controls. He hit the ignition switch again, his heart pounding. The skiff sputtered, choked, and then roared to life, its twin engines glowing with a fierce, amber light that cut through the storm. The hum deepened, steadying into a powerful thrum that reverberated through the ground beneath him.

Outside, the light from the engines spilled across the settlement, illuminating the rain-soaked landscape with an otherworldly glow. The mud glistened like molten metal, and the structures of the settlement cast jagged shadows that danced in the downpour.

Jungkook allowed himself a brief smile, his chest rising and falling with relief. He adjusted the controls, testing the throttle as the skiff responded, its frame vibrating beneath him like a creature eager to move.

But his work wasn’t finished. He checked the fuel levels, ensuring the cells were stable. He grabbed a handful of rope and tied down the loose cargo, his mind running through every possible failure point. The skiff might have been operational now, but it was far from invincible.

As the engines settled into a steady hum, Jungkook climbed back into the cockpit and stared out at the stormy horizon. The glow of the engines reflected in his eyes, fierce and determined.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her breaths ragged as she scrambled out of the crevice. The faint glow of the worms clinging to the rocks illuminated her path, their eerie light casting trembling shadows on the canyon walls. Behind her, Leo whispered a frantic protest, but Y/N didn’t stop to listen. She couldn’t.

Her boots slipped on the rain-slicked rock as she clambered up the incline, the roar of the storm masking the sound of her hurried movements. Above, the dark sky churned with ominous clouds, lightning splitting the heavens in jagged streaks. Her gaze locked on the faint glimmer in the distance—the settlement.

It stood like a lone beacon in the night, faintly illuminated by the glow of the skiff’s engines. The sight filled her with equal parts relief and fury. Jungkook was there, preparing to leave, and he was about to do it without them.

Her mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of desperation and anger. How could he? After everything they’d been through together, after the sacrifices and bloodshed, how could he even think about abandoning them?

Her lungs burned, her legs screaming in protest as she pushed herself harder. The mud sucked at her boots, threatening to slow her, but she fought against it. She slipped once, landing hard on her hands and knees, but the pain barely registered. She was back on her feet in an instant, her resolve unshaken.

Ahead, the settlement’s crude perimeter loomed closer. The skeletal remains of makeshift barricades stood silhouetted against the glow of the skiff. She could hear the faint hum of its engines now, the sound growing louder with each step.

Leo and Namjoon huddled close around the faint glow of their makeshift light—a repurposed bottle filled with wriggling glow-worms. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had, their only barrier against the consuming darkness. The dim bioluminescence painted the walls of the narrow crevice in ghostly blue light, casting long, trembling shadows that danced with each movement of the worms.

Namjoon’s hands trembled as he clutched the bottle, the light shifting faintly with his every shudder. His knuckles were white, his grip desperate, as though he believed the fragile container of light was the only thing keeping them tethered to hope. Leo sat pressed against his side, her knees drawn up to her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

The air was stifling, heavy with the smell of damp earth and the acrid tang of fear. Every sound seemed amplified in the tight space—the drip of water from the rocks above, the ragged breaths of their small group, and, worst of all, the relentless scrabbling from outside.

The claws had started again, raking against the shield that Jungkook had shoved over the crevice to keep them hidden. The metal groaned under the strain, the scraping sound grating against their nerves like nails on glass.

Namjoon leaned forward, his jaw clenched as he squinted through a small hole in the makeshift barrier. His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling quickly, the bottle trembling in his grasp.

“What do you see?” Leo whispered, her voice barely audible.

Namjoon didn’t answer right away. His eyes strained to make out shapes beyond the faint glow, but the storm outside was relentless, rain pounding against the shield, masking the shapes of their predators.

And then it happened.

A blade shot through the hole without warning, slicing through the air where Namjoon’s face had been a split second earlier. The metallic edge glinted in the faint light, a deadly flash of silver that disappeared as quickly as it came.

Namjoon yelped, his body jerking back violently. He clutched the bottle of glow-worms to his chest like a talisman, the light within casting wild, chaotic shadows on the walls as it shook in his hands.

“Namjoon!” Leo gasped, her hands darting out to steady him. Her voice quavered, teetering on the edge of panic.

“I’m fine,” Namjoon panted, though his voice betrayed his terror. He glanced at the barrier, his eyes wide and unblinking, the image of the blade burned into his mind. The light from the glow-worms reflected in his gaze, making him look almost as ghostly as the creatures they were hiding from.

The scratching sounds didn’t stop. If anything, they grew louder, more insistent, as if the predators were testing the limits of the shield. The scraping of claws against metal was interspersed with sharp clicking noises—communication, perhaps, or the prelude to an attack.

Namjoon shifted closer to Leo, his free hand gripping her arm tightly. The pressure of his fingers was almost painful, but she didn’t pull away. She welcomed the contact, grounding herself in the reality of his presence.

“We can’t just sit here,” Leo whispered, her voice shaking.

“We don’t have a choice,” Namjoon replied, his voice hoarse. He held the glow-worms higher, angling the faint light toward the hole. The bioluminescence seemed to hold the creatures at bay for now, the clicking and scraping faltering whenever the glow intensified.

“They’re scared of the light,” Leo murmured, her voice filled with a fragile hope.

“Not scared enough,” Namjoon muttered grimly. He glanced down at the bottle in his hands, watching the tiny worms squirm inside. It was a fragile thing, their makeshift light, and he didn’t know how long it would last.

A sudden thud against the shield made both of them jump, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound. The metal barrier bowed inward slightly, the force behind it unmistakable.

“They’re getting bolder,” Leo said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Namjoon swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the glow-worms. “We have to hold out,” he said, his tone wavering but determined. “Jungkook will come back. He has to.”

But even as he said the words, doubt crept into his voice. They had no way of knowing if Jungkook was still alive, if he’d managed to make it to the settlement—or if he’d abandoned them entirely.

Leo glanced at Namjoon, her fear mirrored in his face. They both knew the truth: they were running out of time.

The rain drummed incessantly on the skiff’s hull as Jungkook sat in the cockpit, his fingers dancing over the controls. The interior lights dimmed to a soft glow while the external beams pierced the downpour, illuminating the barren, desolate landscape. He exhaled sharply, leaning back in the chair, his eyes scanning the monitors for any threats. Then something outside caught his attention—a figure standing defiantly in the headbeams.

Y/N.

Rain streamed down her face, her hair plastered against her skin, but her expression burned with intensity. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t stepping aside. If anything, she seemed ready to throw herself under the skiff to stop it from taking off. Her silhouette, stark against the rain and light, was both fragile and unyielding. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither moved.

Jungkook sighed heavily and flipped a switch. The hatch hissed open, the sound barely audible over the pounding rain. He didn’t say a word as Y/N climbed aboard, water dripping from her clothes in rivulets that pooled on the floor. She paused midway down the gangway, the faint interior glow casting harsh shadows on her face. Despite her soaked appearance, the light seemed to carve her features sharper, her resolve unshakable.

“You’re not leaving,” she said, her voice firm, each word deliberate. “Not until we go back for the others.”

Jungkook leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unbothered. He let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound more dismissive than amused.

“I promised them,” Y/N pressed, taking a step closer. “I said we’d go back with more light. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

“You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a shit,” Jungkook replied, his tone cold, his gaze steady.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “What’s the matter, Jungkook? Afraid?”

At that, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re confusing me with Lee,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Fear was his monkey. Me? I deal in life and death. All that stuff in between? Shades of gray my eyes don’t see.”

Y/N’s anger flared. “I trusted you. I thought maybe—just maybe—some part of you wanted to be human again.”

Jungkook pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in a deliberate, slow stride. “Truthfully?” he said with a faint shrug. “I wouldn’t even know how.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her determination faltering for just a moment. “Then wait for me,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “I’ll go back myself. Just give me the light.”

Jungkook smirked and tossed her a light. It clattered to the floor at her feet, broken and useless. Y/N glared at him, her fists clenching at her sides. “You bastard,” she hissed. “Just come with me.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You come with me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She stared at him, incredulous.

“They’re already dead,” he said bluntly, his eyes scanning her face for a reaction. “Get on board.”

“You’re messing with me,” she said, her voice cracking. “I know you are.”

“Of course I am,” Jungkook admitted with infuriating calm. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t leave you here. If you believe anything about me, believe that.”

Y/N’s voice rose, trembling with desperation. “I promised them. I have to go. I have to…”

Jungkook reached out, his movements deliberate and slow. “Step aboard, Y/N.”

“I can’t…” Her voice wavered, her confidence slipping.

“Here,” he said, extending his hand. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Don’t do this to me,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Just give me your hand.”

“They could still be…” Her voice was barely audible now, choked with emotion.

“No one’s going to blame you,” he said softly, his tone almost kind. “Take my hand and save yourself.”

Y/N stared at his hand, her thoughts a whirlwind of guilt and defiance. Then, in a burst of motion, she grabbed it—but instead of stepping aboard, she yanked him down the gangway. They tumbled into the mud, the rain soaking them both instantly. Jungkook tried to rise, but Y/N was faster. She planted a knee on his neck, pinning him down with surprising strength.

“I will not give up on them!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion. “I will not leave anyone on this rock with those things!”

Jungkook moved in a blur, rolling them over until he was on top, pinning her arms with his hands. The sharp tip of his shiv pressed lightly against her neck, but his face wasn’t angry. His expression was calm, curious even. His voice, when he spoke, was soft. “You’d die for them?”

“I would try for them,” Y/N spat back, her eyes blazing up at him.

“You barely know them,” he countered, his tone almost detached.

“I’m human,” she replied, her voice trembling but fierce. “I know you think that’s a weakness, but I feel fear—mine and theirs. Goddammit, Jungkook, yes. I would die for them.”

For a long moment, Jungkook didn’t move. Rain dripped from his hair onto her face, mingling with her tears. Finally, he sighed and eased back, the shiv disappearing into its sheath.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s fucking move before they get eaten and we’ve wasted our time.”

The scrabbling at the shield grew louder, each scratch like a countdown to disaster. Namjoon tensed, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade. His breath came fast and shallow as he fixed his eyes on the vibrating metal, ready to strike at whatever horror broke through.

Suddenly, the shield shifted. It heaved to one side, and for a split second, Namjoon thought the worst. Then, with a grunt of effort, Y/N appeared, her arms trembling as she dragged the barrier aside. Her soaked face was flushed with determination, streaked with mud and rain.

Behind her, looming like a shadow, was Jungkook. His dark eyes scanned the interior with an intensity that sent a chill through the air. “You came for us,” Leo whispered, her voice shaky, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook muttered, brushing past her without a second glance. “We’re all fucking amazed. Anyone not ready for this?”

They wasted no time. Y/N and Namjoon moved to gather the last of their makeshift lights—bottles filled with dimly glowing worms. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. Outside, the rain poured harder, drenching them as they emerged from the crevice. The ground had turned to slick mud, making every step treacherous.

“Tighter,” Jungkook barked, his voice cutting through the downpour. “Stay tight and stay quiet.”

They moved in a huddled cluster, their breaths hitching with every distant screech or skittering sound. The faint glow of their lights barely illuminated the space in front of them, leaving the surrounding darkness heavy and oppressive. Jungkook led the way, his steps sure, his eyes constantly scanning for movement.

At the top of a muddy rise, Jungkook stopped abruptly, throwing up a hand. The group froze behind him, their breaths suspended.

“What is it?” Namjoon whispered, straining to see.

“I don’t hear—” Y/N started, but Jungkook’s hand shot out, clamping over her mouth. He didn’t speak, just tilted his head toward the base of the rise.

In the dim glow of the worms, the scene below slowly came into focus. A predator crouched by a pool of water, its elongated limbs gleaming with rain. It moved with a predatory grace, lapping at the water in sharp, mechanical motions. A second one appeared, then a third. Soon, the pool became a grotesque gathering, the creatures landing silently, their guttural clicks blending with the patter of the rain.

“Get behind me,” Jungkook whispered, his voice barely audible but commanding.

Y/N and the others moved closer together, gripping one another tightly. The predators shifted, revealing a slim gap in their formation. A path.

“When I go, we go,” Jungkook murmured, his tone steady as steel. “Full-throttle. No stopping, no looking back.”

The group nodded, their hands trembling as they prepared to run. The rain seemed to fall even harder, each drop a drumbeat against the tense silence.

The gap widened. Jungkook tensed, his muscles coiled like a spring. “Ready... ready…”

Then he bolted.

The group followed in a chaotic, stumbling chain, their glow-worm lights bobbing wildly. The predators scattered at the sudden intrusion, their clicks turning to screeches as they scrambled out of the way. The sound was deafening, a cacophony of rage and hunger. Water splashed up in arcs as they charged through the pool and up the rise.

Leo slipped, her foot catching on a root hidden in the mud. She screamed as she slid backward, her legs plunging into the water. The predators snapped their heads toward her, their movements too fast to track.

“Leo!” Y/N screamed, but Jungkook was already moving. He spun on his heel, skidding through the mud to reach her just as the first predator lunged. With a growl of effort, he caught her arm and hauled her upward, throwing her over the top of the rise with a strength that defied belief.

“Go!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “You know the way!”

Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second, torn between running and staying. Then Namjoon grabbed her arm, dragging her forward. Together, they helped Leo to her feet, and the three of them scrambled down the other side of the rise.

The settlement was a faint silhouette in the distance, its jagged structures barely visible through the rain and darkness. The glow-worm light flickered as they ran, the mud sucking at their boots with every step. Y/N’s lungs burned, her legs screaming for rest, but she forced herself onward. She couldn’t stop. Not now.

Behind them, the night came alive with sound. The screeches of the predators grew louder, accompanied by the sharp clang of metal against claws. Y/N risked a glance back, her heart plummeting.

Jungkook wasn’t there.

Her feet faltered, panic surging through her. “Jungkook!” she shouted into the night, her voice hoarse. Namjoon grabbed her arm, pulling her forward.

“Keep moving!” he yelled. “He’ll catch up!”

A sound cut through the rain—heavy, wet breathing, like some monstrous engine laboring in the dark. Then, out of the shadows, movement. Jungkook appeared, his figure a blur of mud and blood, his steps unrelenting.

But he wasn’t alone.

A predator lunged out of the darkness, its jagged limbs slicing through the air. Jungkook skidded to a halt, his boots digging into the mud. Another predator perched above, crouched like a nightmare on the edge of a building, its clicking reverberating in the night.

Jungkook’s hands moved in a flash, twin shivs appearing in his grip. The faint light caught the blades, illuminating his face—a mask of focus and feral determination. His breathing steadied, his body lowering into a stance that spoke of countless battles.

Behind him, the creatures circled, their movements deliberate, their clicks crescendoing into a symphony of death.

Y/N froze at the settlement’s edge, her heart pounding. “Jungkook!” she screamed again, her voice breaking.

He didn’t look back. Instead, he bared his teeth in a sharp grin, his eyes glinting with something primal. “Keep running!” he roared, the sound cutting through the rain like a war cry.

Then he charged.

Back at the skiff, Namjoon and Leo staggered up the gangway, their soaked bodies leaning heavily on one another. The warm glow of the headlamps engulfed them, offering a fleeting sense of safety, but the fear in their eyes remained.

Y/N stood just outside, her body trembling, every muscle screaming at her to board. Her hand gripped the metal railing so tightly her knuckles shone white against the rain-slick surface. The storm pelted her relentlessly, its cold bite barely registering against the heat of her adrenaline.

“Captain,” Namjoon called softly, urgency threading through his tone. “Come aboard. Please.”

But Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes scanned the ink-black night, searching for any sign of life—or death. She couldn’t abandon him. Not like this.

Then it came: a sound that turned her blood to ice. A terrible, gut-wrenching cacophony of screams—human and beast, interwoven into a symphony of violence.

Jungkook.

Her instincts overtook her. Without hesitation, she yanked the glow-worm bottle from Namjoon’s neck and plunged into the darkness, ignoring his frantic shouts behind her.

“Y/N! Don’t! Frenchie!”

The glow-worms threw shaky halos of light as Y/N sprinted through the downpour, breath tearing from her lungs in ragged bursts. Rain sheeted down, soaking her to the bone, blurring her vision until the trees became shadows and shadows became monsters. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t slow. She couldn’t. Somewhere ahead, someone was screaming. Screaming like they were being ripped apart.

Her boots hit the mud with heavy slaps, slipping and catching, slipping again. Her heartbeat was a thunderclap in her ears, almost drowning out the storm. Almost. Because the sounds ahead were louder now—sharp, inhuman, brutal. Screeches. Something tearing. Something dying.

She burst into the clearing like a bullet through fog, and the scene hit her like a punch to the gut.

The glow-worms gave off just enough light to illuminate the horror: a chaos of blood and shadow and steel.

Jungkook was on his knees, soaked and wild-eyed, his chest rising and falling like he’d been running for days. He was swinging something—a metal bar, maybe? A broken pipe? —at the circling predators that slithered in and out of the gloom, slick limbs glinting with rain and blood. They were fast, terrifyingly coordinated, like some nightmarish ballet. Shadows slicing through shadows, all limbs and blades and hunger.

Blood streaked his face. Some of it his. Some of it not. He looked like something carved from war.

One of the things—taller than the rest, limbs bending wrong—peeled off from the pack and lunged at her.

Y/N barely had time to register it. Just instinct. She dropped like a stone, hitting the ground hard as the creature’s blade of a limb whistled past her skull, close enough to feel the wind of it. She hit the mud face-first, the impact jarring, cold and wet and full of blood.

Her own, maybe. She didn’t care.

“It’s me! It’s me!” she screamed, scrambling forward on hands and knees. “Jungkook, it’s me!”

He turned toward her like he’d been yanked on a string, and for a second—a single, gut-twisting second—his eyes didn’t recognize her. They were wide, haunted, raw.

Not scared of the monsters. Jungkook had never been afraid to die.

No, this was something else.

This was the look of a man afraid he was about to lose everything.

The second they were close enough, Y/N threw herself into his arms. No plan. No hesitation. She just collapsed into him, wrapped her arms tight around his sides and buried her face in his chest.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. All the strength she’d been clutching onto shattered.

She sobbed like something inside her had cracked open. Big, shaking, gasping sobs. The kind you don’t come back from right away.

She cried for Bindi and Daku. For Peter and Namjoon’s boys.

For Leo. For Namjoon.

Even for Lee. Poor, broken, strung-out Lee, who’d never stood a chance.

And she cried—for Shields.

Shields, who she hated. Who had died screaming. Shields, who’d put himself between the crew and death anyway.

“It’s not fair,” she moaned against Jungkook’s chest, her voice raw and small and lost.

He didn’t say anything at first. Didn’t know what to say.

This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he was good at. Women didn’t throw themselves at him—not like this. Not with tears and shaking hands. Not with trust.

But he didn’t push her away.

Instead, slowly, he dropped his hands from where they’d hovered, unsure, and pulled her close. Wrapped those strong arms around her like they were made for this.

There were no chains this time.

Oh, Y/N.

She fit.

That was the weirdest part. She fit. Her body curved into his like it belonged there. Her head rested right beneath his chin, snug and natural. He wasn’t thinking about anything stupid—he wasn’t even thinking. He was just there, holding her.

And maybe that was enough.

Y/N’s sobs faded into quiet crying, just small sniffles now, her breath still hiccupping as she tried to pull herself back together.

She didn’t want to look at him.

Didn’t want him to see how far she’d fallen apart.

Didn’t want to see what he saw when he looked at her.

But she remembered—how safe she’d felt back on the skiff, when he’d held her waist to help her up. It hadn’t made sense then, but it hadn’t needed to. That pull toward him had been strange and terrifyingly familiar.

There was something about Jungkook. Always had been.

Now, in the dim glow from the bottle between them, the light from the glow-worms casting strange shadows on their faces, she let herself feel it.

The rain was still pouring, thick and relentless.

The planet was still dead.

But for a moment, it didn’t feel like it.

They pulled away at the same time, like something unspoken had passed between them. Just a few seconds of an embrace—but it had stretched out, slow and meaningful.

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffling hard, avoiding his eyes. The embarrassment kicked in like a reflex. God, what was she doing breaking down like that?

But Jungkook didn’t mock her. Didn’t smirk. He was just watching her, face soft in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“Where’s the kid?” he asked, voice hoarse. “The holy man?”

And then his knees buckled.

Y/N barely caught him.

For the first time since the crash, Jungkook had fallen—and not because of anything trying to kill him. Just because his body had finally had enough.

She bent down, her hands fumbling, trembling. Found the bottle she’d dropped earlier and cradled it like it held the last light in the universe.

“The skiff,” she said, sliding to her knees next to him. She looped the bottle around his neck, the soft glow painting shadows across his bloodied skin. “Come on.”

Her voice cracked. But she kept going.

“We’re not dying here. Not today.”

Jungkook swayed, eyes fluttering like he was on the edge of giving up. For a second, she really thought he was going to. That his body had finally surrendered.

But then his jaw clenched. He gritted his teeth. Forced himself up, inch by inch, like a man rising from a grave.

She threw his arm around her shoulders, and they leaned on each other like two halves of something broken trying to walk in one piece.

“Just keep moving,” Y/N whispered, dragging in air like glass. “Ten steps. That’s all we need. Ten steps, Jungkook. We can do this.”

Maybe the words were for him. Maybe they were for her.

Didn’t matter. She needed them said.

“Nine steps. Almost there. Eight. Don’t look back. Don’t stop.”

The predators were screaming again behind them. Clicking, snarling, hunting. That terrible, guttural chorus rising like a stormcloud chasing them down.

Y/N’s legs felt like they were full of molten lead. Her back ached, her lungs felt carved out, her vision was doing that scary fuzzy thing at the edges—but she didn’t stop.

Jungkook was heavy. But he was moving.

They kept going, leaning hard into each other.

And then it happened.

That sound.

Sharp and wet and awful—like the world itself had split open. It sliced through the thick, rain-heavy air, and it didn’t belong. It wasn’t natural, didn’t come from the wind or the storm or the things hunting in the dark. It was something wrong.

And then came the impact.

A brutal hit, all force and chaos, like a freight hauler slamming into their backs. One second they were standing, barely upright, the next they were airborne—flung apart like rag dolls. Y/N hit the ground first, and it hurt.

Hard.

The breath exploded out of her lungs in a raw, useless gasp. Her spine jarred. Her head snapped back. Everything inside her rattled like she’d cracked open. The glow-worm bottle slipped from her hand, rolled into the muck, and kept rolling, casting a dim, sickly light across the slick, churning dirt.

Then the silence came.

That eerie, wrong silence. Like the world had hit pause. The rain kept falling, but she couldn’t hear it. The creatures in the distance—silent. Her own heartbeat—gone, or maybe just buried too deep beneath the throb of pain. It was a silence that swallowed sound, and breath, and hope.

Y/N blinked hard, tried to push herself up, but her body didn’t want to move. Her hands trembled as they sank into the cold, wet earth. She felt hollow, like something vital had been scooped out of her while she wasn’t looking.

Something was wrong.

Something terribly wrong.

And then the pain bloomed.

It didn’t creep in. It ripped through her.

A white-hot bolt of agony erupted in her side, sharp and blinding, and her scream caught in her throat like it didn’t know how to get out. Her eyes shot down, and for a moment—just one split second—she didn’t understand what she was seeing.

Then her mind caught up.

Something was inside her.

A grotesque, jagged limb jutted out from her side—bone, but not. It looked like bone filtered through a nightmare. Shiny and twisted, flecked with blood, slick with her own warmth.

It had punched through her.

Panic surged, all cold and frantic. Her thoughts fractured, scattered like broken glass. She tried to scream but managed only a strangled sob. Her body trembled beneath the weight of shock.

"Not for me," Jungkook’s voice cut through the haze. Hoarse. Raw. He was there suddenly, hands grabbing her, pulling her in.

His grip was strong, but his voice—there was something behind it. Something thin and cracking.

Fear.

Not for himself. For her.

She clung to him with what little strength she had left, her fingers clawing at his shirt, trying to hold on to something real. Her vision swam, dark at the edges, and everything was slipping. Her breath rattled in her chest like it didn’t belong to her anymore.

She wanted to fight. She wanted to. But it was too fast. Too much.

The light faded from her eyes as she collapsed against him. No scream. No last word. Just gone.

Y/N disappeared into the quiet.

The stillness was complete.

For one breath, two, maybe three, the entire world seemed to hold itself still. Then came the scream—not hers, but his.

Jungkook’s voice tore into the silence like a blade, raw and violent and desperate. It echoed off the trees, off the dirt, into the stars.

He laid her down like something sacred, but his hands were shaking. He didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t built for this—this kind of loss. Not her.

Never her.

Then the creatures were on him.

The snarl of a hunter cut through the silence behind him, and without thinking, he spun. Rage rose, unfiltered and unchecked. The first one lunged—fast, too fast—but Jungkook was faster.

His hand gripped the jagged metal pipe he’d dropped earlier, and he swung hard, driving it straight into the creature’s throat. There was a sickening crunch, a gurgling shriek, and it collapsed.

Another came from the side—he ducked low, rolled through the mud, came up swinging. The edge of the pipe caught the creature across the head, split it open with a wet crack.

They came fast after that.

Three more. Maybe four. Didn’t matter.

Jungkook moved like a storm, all fury and instinct. The pipe became an extension of his rage—jabbing, swinging, breaking bones, snapping limbs. He didn’t stop. Didn’t feel. Not the blood on his hands or the pain in his muscles or the ache blooming in his ribs.

One of them got close enough to rake a claw across his back. He roared, spun, drove the pipe through its chest so hard it got stuck. He let it go and pulled a blade from the body of another, used that instead.

When the last one fell, the clearing went still again.

Bodies twitched and bled into the mud.

Jungkook stood there for a long second, soaked in rain and blood, panting like a wild animal. The bodies of the creatures lay broken around him, steam rising from their carcasses in the cold night air. His chest heaved, every breath like fire in his throat. His hands—still clenched, still ready to kill—dripped red.

Then he turned.

And everything inside him stopped.

Y/N was gone.

The spot where she'd fallen, where he'd held her, where her blood had soaked into the earth—empty. No body. No trace. Just the flickering glow-worm bottle, cracked and sputtering out in the mud, casting its weak light over churned dirt and drag marks vanishing into the trees.

“No...” The word came out hoarse, broken. His eyes darted wildly into the shadows, scanning the treeline, searching for any movement, any sound—anything that might tell him this wasn’t real. That she wasn’t really gone. That maybe he’d just turned away for too long.

But he knew better. He felt it.

They had taken her.

He let out a sound—somewhere between a growl and a sob—and took off.

Back toward the skiff. Back through the dark.

The storm screamed around him, but he didn’t slow. His boots pounded the ground in a wild rhythm, slipping in the mud, crashing through low-hanging branches. He could still feel the warmth of her blood on his arms, still see her eyes fading into that terrible stillness.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel. There was only forward.

The skiff. That was all that mattered now.

The rain blurred everything—trees, ground, sky—it all became one frantic smear of motion and noise. He didn’t know if he was screaming or just breathing too loud. Didn’t care.

When the ship finally broke through the clouds, it looked like both salvation and ruin.

The hull groaned under the strain of re-entry, its scorched wings catching fire as it tore through the atmosphere—like dying stars burning out in silence. It wasn’t built for this kind of flight. The skiff was a fragile thing, pieced together with desperation and whatever scraps were left behind. But it was all he had. It was all that remained.

Jungkook dropped into the pilot’s seat, muscles barely cooperating, every breath heavy with exhaustion. Blood slid down his back where one of the creatures had caught him—he didn’t remember when. Time had blurred into one long moment of loss and survival.

His hands found the controls automatically, guided by muscle memory. But they felt wrong. As if they belonged to someone else now. Someone untouched by grief. Someone who hadn’t just watched the last good thing in their life vanish into darkness.

His fingers drifted across the console, leaving a streak of blood. Not his.

Hers.

He didn’t wipe it away.

Instead, he stared at it—longer than he should have—jaw locked so tight it sent pain shooting up to his temples.

The nav screen flickered to life: Sol-Track 17B. The route was plotted. The destination didn’t matter. Not anymore. What mattered was the hollow space inside his chest. That aching, consuming absence.

Beside him, Leo sat motionless. A shadow of herself. Her eyes fixed on the stars like she was trying to fall into them, or maybe disappear altogether. The silence between them was unbearable. Heavy. Too real.

Jungkook was the one who finally broke it.

“You can talk to me now,” he said, voice cracked and raw, scraped from somewhere deep inside.

Leo didn’t respond right away. She stayed quiet, gaze lost in the black. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know where to go,” she said. The words landed with weight, not just confusion but something deeper. “I was just running when this all started. Running from everything.”

She paused, fingers fidgeting against the worn edge of her seat. Then, softer, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook didn’t answer at first. Because he didn’t know. Maybe he never had.

“Nowhere,” he said finally, barely audible above the low hum of the engines. “I was just… running too.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t even an answer. But it was true. And in that moment, it was enough. Two people drifting, directionless, bound only by shared loss and silence. And somewhere in the middle of that quiet, they seemed to understand each other.

Neither had answers. Neither had safety. Only this—this ship, this moment, this space between everything they’d lost and whatever came next.

The skiff shifted course slightly, engines humming steady. Outside, the stars seemed to move with them, like the universe was shifting, realigning itself. A single bright star emerged in the darkness, clear and sharp.

Jungkook stared at it, something tightening in his chest.

“Might be worth seeing,” he said under his breath. He didn’t mean to say it aloud. It just… slipped out.

From the back, Namjoon stepped into view. Quiet. Grounded. The kind of calm that didn’t ask questions. His gaze landed on the same star, and something passed over his face—something soft, reverent.

“New Mecca,” he said, almost a whisper. As if the name itself held meaning. As if it carried hope.

Jungkook turned to look at him, unreadable. But when he spoke again, his voice held something between skepticism and longing.

“Think a soul could get lost there?” he asked. “In a place like that? Surrounded by people chasing something they’ll never catch?”

Namjoon didn’t blink. “It’s more the kind of place where souls are found,” he said simply. “Not lost.”

Jungkook said nothing, eyes drifting back to the star. He didn’t know if he believed it. He wasn’t sure if he could believe anything anymore.

The silence held, stretched taut over the hum of the skiff.

Leo shifted in her seat. Still staring at the void, but her voice cut through it.

“What do we tell them?” she asked. “When we land. About you.”

Jungkook didn’t turn. He kept his eyes forward, face unreadable.

“Tell ’em I died on that rock.”

Leo looked over at him, brow drawn. “You serious?”

He finally glanced her way—just a flicker of a look. Cold. Tired. Certain.

“Yeah.”

She didn’t push it. Just nodded, slowly. “Alright.”

Namjoon stood in the back, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he’d been listening the whole time. His voice came low.

“Cleanest lie we’ve got.”

Jungkook’s mouth curved—barely. Not a smile. Not even close. But something like it.

“Let the dead man take the blame,” he said. “Might keep you all safer.”

No one argued.

Leo settled back into her seat, letting the weight of everything sink into her bones. Namjoon moved to the co-pilot’s chair and keyed in the final approach vector. The skiff adjusted, smooth and quiet.

They didn’t speak again.

The light from the nearby star started to spill across the dash, casting long shadows inside the cockpit. The scorched metal of the skiff caught the glow, gleaming faintly—wreckage limping its way toward something that might, on a generous day, be called hope.

Jungkook leaned into his seat, staring at that one bright point in the dark. A place with temples and pilgrims. A place where people went to be saved.

Didn’t matter.

He’d done what he had to. Got them off that planet. Got them through.

That was enough.

Behind him, the planet shrank into nothing—just another dead world in a galaxy full of them.

And in front of him, New Mecca waited.

Not for him.

Just for the story of him.

Let them believe the killer died down there. Let them believe the monster went down with the dark.

It was better that way.

The skiff surged forward, engines low and steady. And somewhere behind the silence, behind the metal, behind the blood and ash and fire...

A man who wasn’t supposed to survive lived on anyway.

Taglist: @fancypeacepersona @ssbb-22 @mar-lo-pap @sathom013 @kimyishin @ttanniett @sweetvoidstuff @keiarajm @sathom013 @miniesjams32

[mleighd94]

Hallowed Grove Chapter Seven: Stirring Shadows

The forest grew unnervingly still.

Even the soft glow of the Hollowed Grove’s enchanted flora seemed to dim, as if the very air was holding its breath. Y/N felt a prickle at the back of her neck, and she turned, heart hammering against her ribs, but there was nothing — just the dense curtain of trees and the faint shimmer of mist curling along the ground.

Then the earth trembled.

It was slight at first, like the pulse of something ancient awakening beneath their feet. Jungkook stiffened beside her, his hand automatically reaching for the dagger strapped at his side. Namjoon’s trident appeared in his hand with a low hum of power, the silvered points gleaming in the unnatural twilight.

“Stay close,” Namjoon ordered, voice tight.

Before anyone could respond, the trees erupted.

From the shadows burst creatures—twisted, unnatural things. Their bodies were patchworks of shadow and bone, eyes burning like coals. They moved with unnatural speed, hissing and snarling as they lunged toward the group.

“Ragnor’s creations,” Jin muttered, grim. He stepped protectively in front of Y/N, his hands already glowing with golden healing light — not to heal, but to ward.

The battle was chaos.

Jungkook swung a heavy branch he’d wrenched from a tree, crushing one creature into a cloud of ash. Hoseok’s mind powers stunned several others, making them stumble as if drunk. Taehyung flew through the fight with uncanny speed, weaving illusions to confuse the enemy.

Y/N stumbled backward, heart pounding, powerless—

Or so she thought.

One of the creatures broke through the line, charging straight at her. Y/N threw her hands up instinctively—and the air shivered.

A burst of silver-blue light erupted from her palms, slamming into the creature midair. It shrieked, dissolving into nothingness before it even hit the ground.

Everyone froze for half a second.

Y/N stared at her hands, chest heaving, the faint glow fading from her fingertips.

“What… was that?” Jimin breathed, awe-struck.

But there was no time for answers. More of Ragnor’s beasts poured from the woods, screeching with inhuman rage.

**

They fought harder now, desperation driving them. Jin slashed his healing light like a blade, Namjoon summoned tendrils of misty seawater to lash at the creatures, and Jungkook — beautiful, brave Jungkook — let his voice rise in a low, vibrating hum that seemed to weaken the monsters nearest him, making them flicker like faulty candle flames.

They held the line.

Together.

But it cost them.

When the final creature fell with a hiss and scattered into smoke, the clearing was a wreck. Trees toppled, the sweet-scented grass was torn up and blood-smeared, and the air stank of ozone and burning.

Y/N dropped to her knees, drained.

Jin was instantly at her side, pressing his hands to her shoulders. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. Her limbs trembled violently. It wasn’t physical pain—it was like something inside her had been torn open.

The others gathered close, battered but alive. They formed a loose, protective circle around her, and even though they barely trusted her yet, Y/N felt it — that bone-deep instinct to protect. To stay near.

“We need to get out of the open,” Namjoon said grimly, scanning the woods. “This wasn’t random. Ragnor knows we’re here.”

“How?” Hoseok asked, voice tight.

Y/N swallowed thickly.

She had a horrible, twisting feeling she knew the answer.

Because she was waking up.

Because pieces of herself—the real self—were bleeding back into this world.

And Ragnor would stop at nothing to destroy her before she remembered enough to defeat him.

“Something’s coming,” Jungkook whispered then.

Everyone turned sharply toward him.

He stood very still, his head tilted slightly, eyes wide and distant.

“I hear it again,” he murmured. “The song.”

A faint melody drifted through the trees — just barely audible — as if the Hollowed Grove itself were singing to them. A lilting, ancient song, filled with longing and sadness… and hope.

“Follow it,” Y/N said suddenly, her voice stronger than she expected.

She didn’t know how she knew. She just did.

The others hesitated, exchanging wary glances. But Jungkook moved first, reaching for her hand without hesitation. His fingers curled around hers, warm and certain.

“Come on,” he said softly.

And one by one, the others followed.

Together, they disappeared into the mist, chasing a song that had waited far too long to be heard.

[jmdbjk]

Thinking too hard.

I was having a delusional episode while talking to my bestie:

Here's my wild concept for the BTS comeback MV: a Star Wars-like spoof where they are the rebel underdogs fighting the evil empire.

The song would need to have an overall "together we will overcome and save the world" theme. Or it could be a "fuck you evil bitches time to die". Either/or.

They are in those X-wing fighters and those huge land walker thingys.

Jimin can have smeraldo flower decals on his X-wing and JK can have tattoo graffiti looking decals on his. Of course both of their light sabers would be purple. Duh, right? It gets hot in those fighter space craft, they'd be shirtless of course.

Tae can be riding one of those two-legged horse/kangaroo looking things, wind blowing in his hair. Hey, I just googled what they are called... Tauntauns... tan tans? The universe is universing here. Stick with me, I might be on to something.

Yoongi can be operating one of those land stompers. Googled what those are called (can you tell I'm not a hardcore Star Wars fan? But I did see most of the theatrical movies, except maybe one... anyway) All Terrain Armored Transport or AT-AT Walker because at one point in Yoongi's life, he worked as a motorbike delivery person. Universe, stop it! While delivering more troops and weapons to the front lines, Yoongi can crush people who look like k-media and fake media... or MHJ. For sure kpoppies. Crush 'em all, Yoongi.

I don't want to say it but its a no-brainer: Namjoon is a wise and philosophical ancient being who can slice an enemy in half using only his words. May the force be with you. Slash.

That leaves Hobi. He's the commander of course. Perfectly fitting uniform (designed by LV of course) manning the war room.

Jin, since he's the oldest and the most hardcore gamer, would volunteer to be the one to fly into the heart of the evil empire's ship/vessel/planet/egg/brain/bowels/whatever and blow it to bits before he zooms out safely, escaping obliteration. I guess that would also lend itself to having a slight astronaut touch to it wouldn't it? Kinda also ties in with military stuff.

Cue the close up of Jin winking to the camera and blowing a WWH kiss.

At the end of the MV the evil in the world is destroyed and everyone cheers. The whales in the ocean rejoice.

A bit violent but in a sci-fi fantasy way. Hybe can spend a lot of money on special effects and make it very sparkly and over the top cinematic.

At least you can’t say I don’t have a sense of humor along with this wild imagination.

Time to exit the emo angst school boi era and enter the mature hunk oppa hero era guys. Universe! Get on it!

[kithtaehyung]

3tanniversary survey audio answers: ep. 2 | transcript under the cut

[ 241107 ] Hi, my loves. Welcome to episode 2 of three years with 3tan audio answers.

For this question, we have, "what point did you realize that your popularity and story were becoming bigger than you anticipated? Slash, how did that shift from just being a fic to it being a community feel?"

2022 was a really big year for 3tan in general, but I think it was because.. even though I said I wasn't like a schedule person, it was getting updated like either every month or every two months. And when you're constantly putting out a series like that, it's just inherently gonna get more engagement because it's gonna keep showing up, if that makes sense.

To be very honest with you guys, I don't think about things in terms of popularity or follower count or whatever. It's more of the engagement level, and that is when - 2022 is when the engagement level started skyrocketing. And (laughs) a big contributor to that? You're not gonna believe this if you weren't here at the time but if you were here I think you're gonna get this when I say.. 3tan bro. (laughs)

3tan bro was the key because everyone had either their own member - like they imagined him as either Seokjin, Hoseok, or Namjoon - but some people didn't. And it was a huge debate that just got to hilarious proportions, we even had the most ridiculous answers like Psy (laughs)

Honestly I think that was the icebreaker because there was a lot of people that were just reading it, but then they finally got into it, into the whole interaction piece and it made a lot of people more comfortable interacting - with me or with each other because people were (laughs) people were talking to each other via the inbox and I was just being a messenger at that point. Like I was just the poster and they were just debating, arguing, laughing with each other and it was just great.

So Stay was.. I think Stay was the big, the big jump. And then after that, it just became its own thing. Like we started really becoming a community at that point.

And honestly, I miss it. Thank you for this question. It's making me reminisce on a lot of stuff and just thinking about the people that.. used to be here.. Umm. That probably aren't anymore.

I think about.. I think about a lot of you even if I don't know your real name. Like if I just know you by your emoji or something and you haven't sent in an ask in a while, I hope you're doing well. I'm grateful for all of you and I try to remember as much as you as possible. Whether it's your birthdays or, umm…

Yeah. Anyway, next question!

"What are your favorite parts? I wanna know." Ooh, my favorite parts? Definitely Fireworks. That whole thing, I keep saying this, but Fireworks.. Fireworks just has its own emotion and feel that I will never be able to replicate. I still think about that balcony a lot.

Stay, the water scene (laughs) along with many of you. That was a big turning point too because we saw Yoongi finally, like, be himself instead of.. You know, he surprised us all and that was a really, really good moment.

All the scenes in the kitchen, you know me. The kitchen is a super important place for these characters and by extension myself. And.. some of the ones I can't talk about yet. (laughs)

But yeah. Also the I love you scene. Honestly? That one came out of nowhere. That one surprised me, too. And as soon as he said it, I.. just cried.

So take that as you will. And yeah.

-

some of my fave parts that didn't make it into this cut bc i was put on the spot (shh yes i could've put a script together but i'm also busy LOL):

forfeit. my god. that whole chapter is a favorite part.

the moments with reader's friends, and tae.

speaking of friends, JUSTICE FOR FRIENDS! that whole chapter!!!

now that i'm hearing my answers, i didn't specify any spicy parts lmao but definitely the OG three tangerines, like that, friends, and broken pt. 2 are my fave spices. :))

wanna submit your own question? fill the survey out above or send in an ask saying you'd like an audio answer!