#never mind I do kind of hate Jin

[musicloverdani]

Caught up with Dead Friend Forever, and I am enjoying it. Very much intrigued.

But I just gotta say that Fluke is a bitch. I hate him.

Honestly I blame him for everything, because all of this suffering Non is going through, wouldn’t have happened if he would’ve said something. Cause he was sitting there the whole time.

Though I do think it explains his sudden flip in the present.

But yeah, I blame Fluke. Fuck him.

Also, Jin sucks. I can’t believe it. I actually liked him up until the latest episode.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Hiraeth: 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You had always been his, and no one could take you away from him. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Slight age gap, Murder intention, Mention of death, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I’m in my Jin-I-miss-you era and I’m taking u all with me. Idk yet if this will be two-shot. Do tell me your thoughts 💜

Masterlist

“I’m going to marry you.”

The nine-year old Seokjin lost his concentration upon hearing your declaration. He blinked, and all of a sudden, the game signaled that he lost. His hold on the game controller slackened. It gently hit the carpeted floor. He hated losing. It was game over all because of you.

“I’m never gonna marry you,” he said so meanly that he was sure you would finally stop following him around. But the five year-old you merely grinned, several teeth missing and announced that he would marry you. You were sure of it.

“Will you stop following me?!” Jin seethed, glaring at your small form as you didn’t mind his anger and continued walking behind him eagerly. Jin was at the stage where all he wanted was to move, to burn the excess energy. He was into sports lately. And because he was fond of it, you were, too. Wherever he went, you’d follow. It was like he had another shadow besides his own.

It was annoying.

But it was also comforting.

On times when he’d fall, knees and hands bruised or bloodied, there you were, quietly telling him it was going to be fine, gently washing the blood off of him. You were always there to help him stand up again. You always carried around cute bandaids. He liked to think that you carried it for him.

He was twelve now, and you still followed him around. He even told his mother about you, but she merely giggled and told him that you were the cutest little girl she had ever seen. He should have known she wouldn’t side with him. After all, your father was his father’s best friend. This was why you were always around…and he was used to your presence that when you couldn’t attend some of his family’s event, he would sulked. But the young Seokjin couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why he hated when you were gone.

Yet, he was irritated by your presence.

He saw you as a nuisance, but you saw him as someone who was larger than life. In your young mind, he was the epitome of perfect. He looked like a prince, and his family treated him as such. You wanted nothing but to be his princess. And so, you spent your younger days following him around. You saw him through all the stages in his life, until he became that lanky, yet sporty teenager.

He was fifteen and you were eleven. You knew he was even more irritated with you than glad that you were with his family during their vacations. His mom treated you like her own daughter, saying that you were the daughter she never had, and you were only too glad to have a mother figure. On some vacations, Jin would be kind and played with you with the sand. On some vacations, he would watch out for you whenever you strayed too far on the sea.

On some days though, he scoffed at your presence.

Like right now.

You looked at the entrance of your school with mild confusion, your strides faltering as you realized it was Jin who was waiting for you outside the school premises. He was cooly leaning against their car, their driver sitting on the car, waving at you with a smile on his face. But Jin looked angry.

“Who’s that?” Your close friend and classmate, Chan, asked you. “Why does he look mad?”

Yes. Why was Jin mad?

Perhaps, Jin was too impatient to wait for you because not a moment later, his legs that you noticed were becoming longer as the years passed by brought him faster to you. He stood in front of you, towering over you and Chan. And was he glaring at him?

“Jin!” You gushed in excitement, your adoration to him apparent that you were sure your eyes were gleaming with unrestrained happiness. “Why are you here?”

He turned to you after scaring the poor boy, “Your father asked me to pick you up from school. Our families are going to have dinner together,” he replied in a tense voice. He didn’t even let you speak when he grabbed the backpack that you were wearing, and dragged it to the waiting car.

You didn’t get the chance to say your goodbye to your friend.

Inside the car, his eyes were trained on the window, watching the passing cars. He was pouting, his lips protruding adorably. And there you were, sitting beside him as you nonchalantly ate your candy whilst talking animatedly to their driver.

“Does your father know you have a boyfriend?”

You blinked owlishly, confused with what he suddenly said. The driver only shook his head lightly and smiled. He was watching the young sir sulked until Jin couldn’t keep his silence anymore.

“W-what boyfriend?”

“That boy you were walking with.”

“He’s a friend!”

Jin turned his head to look at you, his eyes appeared darker as he took you in. You were ridiculous in his eyes.

“Sure he is. I’m going to tell your father about this,” he promised in a monotonous voice. His jaw was clenched as he remembered clear as day how the two of you walked so near each other. He knew how other boys thought, especially on that age with their silly crushes.

But if he thought you would be mad, he could not be anymore mistaken. You instantaneously slid across the sit, almost plastering your side to his as you looked up at his eyes.

“Oppa, are you jealous?” You asked with a wide grin on your face, your lips the color of the sweet candy you were eating.

He blinked repeatedly. He could not believe he came across as that! He was just…looking for you. Right?! He was just somehow protective of you.

As gently as he could, he pushed you away. “Don’t be delusional! I’m just worried for uncle! He works so hard only for you to be with boys when you’re so young!” he explained in an annoyed voice, the volume of his voice rising like the way his ears reddened.

“So I should not be with another boy?”

“Yes.”

“So if I stay away from them, will you marry me when we grow up?”

“No.”

You only rolled your eyes at him, unbelieving that the two of you would not end up getting married. Your young self was sure that you would end up with him. A year later, your father transferred you to an all-girl’s school. You didn’t have to know that it was him who influenced your father to do so. At such a young age, Jin was starting to become darker, perhaps a little bit more manipulative. He had done it so underhanded by using his charms and well-placed words that no one would think of him as anything but a sweet, young man.

You were thirteen when girls started being mean to you. Why did kids have to be so mean? Why did kids have to find someone else’s weak spot and attacked it?

You were walking to an alley, a shortcut to your home, minding your own business when the mean girls from school saw you. You learned hate because of them. Your steps faltered when one of the mean girls noticed you.

“Look who’s here,” she sneered, looking at you up and down. Her other two friends paused their chats to look and you and laughed.

“What’s with your messy hair?” One of them asked in disbelief, circling you as she lifted some strands of your hair. You would admit you were bad at combing your hair. You were used to being one of the boys that you didn’t put special care to your appearance. “Do you look like that because you have no mother?”

“You looked like a rat that came from the sewage,” she mocked you. And then the three of them laughed in that annoying way of theirs.

It was not even funny.

You shook your head before attempting to walk past them. But apparently, they weren’t done with you. A scream erupted from your mouth when someone grabbed your hair, tugging it with enough force to bend your neck.

“Where are you going? You think we’re done with you?”

“Yes, freak. We’re done when we say we’re done!”

Even though you fought with all your might, you stood no chance. Three outnumbered one.

Until he came, like a hero you always thought he was.

Jin was in your house, his parents eating dinner with your father. He repeatedly looked at the clock, wondering where could you be. You should be home by now. His knee wouldn’t stop moving as he watched the clock. His parents were laughing with your father when he asked them where you were.

“Oh, she’s on her way home. She’s probably around the alley. You know that girl, she has no patience walking around the block.”

And that was when he left. He politely excused himself, telling them that he would just buy something from the convenience store. Yet, he found himself walking to the mentioned alley.

And he was glad he did.

You were so close to crying, something you didn’t like doing because it always took you forever to stop when someone roughly and carelessly pushed the mean girl away from you. She landed on the ground harshly and you heard her pained whimper. The other two went to their friend, pulling her away from the angry boy. You felt a gentle hand pulling you to stand. You felt Jin brushing the disheveled hair from your face. And then he flashed you a reassuring smile, yet his eyes remained angry.

You were limping as he walked with you. Up until now, he didn’t say anything. And you were all too glad he didn’t. That day, he pulled you to a convenience store, brought medical supplies, and cleaned your wounds quietly. He was bent down as he placed the final bandaid on your knee.

“What are their names?” He asked with an air of nonchalance, but what you didn’t know was his mind was brewing something unpleasant. He was going to unleash hell on those girls.

Without any thought, you told him.

And come morning, you never saw those girls again. Apparently, they were reported to the school and had to transfer.

He was seventeen when he saved you.

You were fourteen and he was eighteen. You were waiting for him outside the university he wanted to enter, in your hand was the placard you spent the whole night making. You were waiting to congratulate him on his entrance exam. There was a crowd outside the school, waiting for their sons or daughters to finish the exam. You were so sure that he was going to pass. Your Jin was the smartest man you knew.

You were grinning and waving wildly when you finally saw him. The years had only made him taller and more handsome. You sighed as his perfect face became more apparent as he neared you. You were so entranced by him that you didn’t notice his other friends and some girls trailing behind him. And they only teased him further when they saw your placard, snickering about how some young girl was pining over Jin.

As if he would be with you.

As if the Jin they knew would be with someone lower than him.

He was so embarrassed that he told you to go home.

“B-but-“

“Go home, Y/N.”

But you meant to ride home with him…

That day, it rained so hard and you were only too pitiful as you walked to the bus stop. You were shivering as you arrived home. And it didn’t come as a surprise that you caught a fever that night. For the first time, you ignored his text asking you if you arrived home safely. You had barely woken up when you noticed his form sitting beside your bed. Your father trusted him so much that he let him in your bedroom. He was silently watching you. On the bedside table was a basin of water and a cloth he used on your forehead. Jin might have appeared stoic in front of you, but inside he was dying from worry when he didn’t hear from you last night.

In fact, he was so worried that he came to your house, knocking on the door sheepishly when he woke up your father and asked if you were home.

He had been here for hours now.

“Are you mad at me?”

You smiled at him weakly. “Never, oppa,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry for leaving you. You should have not came alone, princess,” he lectured gently, still worried that you went on your own for more than an hour travel to cheer for him.

“I wanted to support you,” you pouting defended yourself.

“I know. But next time, don’t. I know you support me even without you going there.”

“W-were you worried for me?”

“Yes.”

“Then,” you said, sitting up slowly before flashing him your cheeky smile. “Will you marry me?”

Seokjin only shook his head.

He was eighteen when he didn’t outrightly said no. He was eighteen when he realized you meant the world to him.

Yet, he was nineteen when he hurt you the most.

It was Christmas. It was the first year he went to college, while you were still in high school. It was the first Christmas he looked forward to because your family and his were spending it together on a cabin near a frozen lake. He was the last one to arrive at the cabin, and he didn’t anticipate the traffic rush from people scrambling to enjoy their holidays that he arrived at a much later night. He didn’t know why, but he spent his first year away from home messaging you daily. He even went as far as demanded you to tell him when you would get home, or when you would go out with your friends, or when you needed someone to pick you up because he would. He would go to you regardless of how far he was. He would drive for hours for you.

Jin parked his car and entered the cabin. He knew you were probably sleeping already, but when he passed the dining room, he could hear conversations that turned something in his brain, something so horrible.

It planted something vile and poisonous in his twisted mind.

“Are you sure about this?” He heard his father’s voice resounding over the quietness of the night. He didn’t know why, but he stayed silent. He was always the polite one, always the one to greet his elders. But right now, he opted to forget his manners.

He opted to eavesdrop.

Your father sighed before putting the glass of whiskey on the table. “I am sure about this. I think it will be good for Y/N and I to move to America. I think it’s an offer I cannot refuse.”

Jin felt a stabbing pain in his heart. No. You would leave him. Your father would take you from him. He didn’t want you gone. He couldn’t have you gone. He would lose it if you weren’t around.

“When will you leave?” His mother asked gently. And Jin dreaded the answer.

“Next week.”

Not if Jin had anything to do with it. No one would take you from him.

“Oppa!”

He snapped out of his dark thoughts when he heard your angelic voice calling to him. You were running full speed to him, and before he knew it you were jumping in his arms. The blunt force of your body slamming to his brought him back to life, to his sanity that was slipping from his grasp.

“You’re here!” You grinned at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He was silent. He probably hated your embrace. He probably found you annoying, still.

You were about to step back when he wrapped his muscular arms around you.

“Y/N! Let Jin go. He’s tired from driving all night,” your father nudged you gently, his smile comforting as he greeted Jin. But to Jin, your father lost all his charm the moment he decided to take you away from him.

The lake was frozen.

It was the perfect time to skate. You were giddy as you and your father skated in the early morning of the Christmas eve. It had always been the two of you since you could remember. Your mother died when you were barely walking. To you, your father was your whole world. Your laughters resounded over the whole cabin, and Jin’s parents’ were happy just listening to you. Jin’s mother was preparing hot chocolate, and his father was putting gifts under the tree.

It smelled like Christmas.

“Jin! My boy, come join us!” Your father called when he noticed from a distance Jin who was standing statue like near the lake. His black coat was in perfect contrast of the whiteness of the snow. His cheeks and lips were almost red from the cold temperature.

You thought he looked like a prince.

You waved at him before twirling around the ice. You landed perfectly on your feet. Your father beckoned you to him, and you were only too eager to skate to him when you heard a cracking sound.

You threaded on the thin ice.

And before you knew it, you were falling in the deep, cold water. The unforgiving temperature of the water swallowed your screams. It swallowed your resistance. You managed to get your head above water only to see you own father fell down, the very ground he was skating on cracked under his weight.

It was merely a second but you saw the horror that flashed in his eyes, the despair of his situation, and the anxiety that he would not get to you on time.

The second time you managed to get your head above the freezing water, you saw Jin running to you, shedding his black coat on the ground.

“My father! Save him!” You screamed, even as your voice shook.

But Jin still ran to you. Without any thought for his own safety, he dove down to the harsh water. He dove down like an angel you thought he was as you sank further down, only the light from the cracked lake shone through. He thought he wouldn’t get to you, but by his strong, sheer will, he managed to grab your wrist.

Pulling you up was harder. But Jin was a determined man.

He swam up with one hand, while the other was secured around your body. He managed to drag you up, noticing how blue your lips were. His parents were screaming as they ran to the lake.

“Stay there!” He shouted, knowing how unstable the ice were.

“M-my father. S-save h-him,” you pleaded your hero, gripping his sleeve with weak hand as he wrapped his coat around your shivering body. It was a though he didn’t hear you, only focused on your well-being.

He could save him.

He still had the energy, the adrenaline rush still strong in his veins.

He could technically save him.

But your father was going to take you away from him.

“Jin, p-please save him,” you whispered frantically, looking up to his dark eyes with your pleading ones.

And so, Jin stood up slower, ran slower, and dove a little slower to save your father. No one would technically call him on his bullshit. After all, his parents saw him dove after their friend. You saw him with his own eyes how he dragged your unconscious, pale father from the pits of the cold lake.

You saw him.

“She’s so young to be an orphan. What a tragedy,” you heard them say as you stood stoically on the side. You had not said a word since your father was pronounced dead. They said you were in shocked. They said you were still processing what happened. They said you would be better in time.

But how would they know that?

You were grateful for the Kim family for taking care of everything; from the funeral to the papers, to taking you in. Even Seokjin filed a leave from the university to stay with you.

And he did stay with you. Right now, he was standing beside you, accepting condolences in behalf of you. He was a rock, just a rock that you didn’t want right now. A rock that you somehow selfishly associated with your father’s death.

He stayed with you even when you didn’t want him to.

You had not even looked at him since that tragedy. You knew it was wrong, you knew it was unfair for you to blame him. But were you wrong to blame him when you felt him hesitate? Had he moved a second sooner, would your father still be here? Would he be lying on the hospital bed instead of his coffin?

It was a month later and you still hadn’t said a word despite you going to therapy. It was a month of silence and of you acting like he wasn’t there, like he wasn’t waiting for you to look at him.

“Dear,” his mother called you one night, sitting you down on their living room. “We were thinking…we want to adopt you.”

If you were shocked, Jin was even more surprised. He didn’t know about this. How could his parents decided to do this? To do this to him?!

Your widened eyes looked up from your hands to them. Did they really mean that? Did that mean you weren’t going to be alone anymore? Were you going to have a family again?

“But only if you want to. There’s no rush, dear. Either way,” Mrs. Kim said gently, clasping your hands in hers, tears brimming in her eyes as she took in the pitiful you. “Either way, you’re already a daughter to me.”

“Thank you.” That was the first thing you said in a month. You were so happy. You were so thankful. You were about to hug her when Jin slammed his hand on the table.

“No!”

“Jin! Watch your tone-“

“No, father. I don’t want to be her brother! I don’t want her to be my sister!” He shouted, his voice extremely loud. And for the first time in a month, you looked at his eyes with your hurt ones. He couldn’t even bring himself to regret this. You didn’t know this now, you probably didn’t realize this right now but he was fighting for the future of the two of you. Why would you say thank you to his mother?! Weren’t you the one who kept on bugging him to marry him? Did you now change your mind? No. No, he wouldn’t let you. He didn’t do all of those things for you to change your mind now.

“I’ll never treat you like a sister, Y/N.”

You were turning sixteen when he let you go.

It was already way past your curfew when you arrived at Kim’s home. You were silently walking in the darkened room, certain that no one would catch you creeping in when all of a sudden, light from a lampshade flooded the room.

And there he was, sitting with his legs crossed, his face void of any emotion as he watched you.

“Princess,” he called you in a slurred voice. It was his voice that finally made you looked at him, to look at the boy you used to adore. It was apparent that he was drunk. His cheeks were tinted with redness, and his eyes were somehow unfocused.

You blinked as you took him in. “You’re drunk.”

“And you hate me. And it’s killing me,” he replied back softly, tears were quickly filling his eyes. He could not go on like this. You were killing him. He could not live another day with you being so close yet so far. At that point, he would do anything to get back the young girl who used to adore and support him. Jin stood up, shadows following his form as he neared you.

Had you not let him touched you that night, he would not agree with you leaving him.

But you did not step back when he caressed your face. You did not step back when he hugged you, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

“How can I make you love me again?”

“Let me go to America,” you replied calmly. You did want to go abroad, to leave all this mess behind. Had you father not died horribly, the two of you would have lived there by now. But Jin was preventing you from leaving with all his might. The influence he had in his parents was powerful, something that you did not consider. In your young mind, you knew leaving was the best course of action for you. South Korea was killing you. Living with him was killing you. Remembering that he saved you instead of your father despite your endless begging was killing you.

And you hating him because of that was killing him.

Jin towered over you as he leaned back to look at you, his eyes tired and sad. “And if I let you leave me, will you love me again?”

Your heart was beating fast. At that point, you would say anything to get away from him and the memories he represented.

“If I let you leave, my princess,” he whispered as he looked down at your lips. “If I let you leave me, do you promise to marry me when you get back?”

“Yes. I promise, Jin.”

It was your lie that cemented your future.

You were now twenty-five. Years passed by so fast. It was true was they said, time could heal wounds. The promise you made before was long gone from your mind. Your then young mind rationalized that Jin only acted that way because of guilt, that he only asked you to love him again because he was so used to you loving him that once you stopped, you shifted the orbit of his world. You hadn’t personally heard from him in almost nine years. As soon as you turned eighteen and no longer needed the Kim family as guardians, you cut off all communications from him. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to distance yourself from Mrs. Kim. She was the mother you never had. But every time you called, Jin would even be more desperate for you. Even his mother was worried for her son, claiming that ever since you stopped communicating with the young man, he started becoming closed off. Every time you called his mother, Jin would snatch the phone away from her, yearning to just hear your voice so badly.

Seokjin was miserable. But his misery was not without anger. He resented the fact that he let you go, that he believed you when you said you would come back to him…that you would marry him.

He regretted letting you leave him. He swore that once he got you back, he would tie you to him so fast you wouldn’t be able to leave him again.

It had been almost a decade.

You weren’t living under the rock, no. To him, it was as though you disappeared from the face of the earth. It was difficult to find you in a foreign country even with his wealth and power. He didn’t know how you were right now. He didn’t know what you look like. He missed the years he could have spent with you. He missed you.

To you though, you could not escape him. His face was everywhere you looked, his life out there for everyone to see. It didn’t come as a surprise to you that he made something more out of himself. After all, ever since you were younger you thought he was larger than life. You were scared to see him in person, though.

You thought seeing him would bring back the pain you so desperately wanted to forget. Your therapist encouraged you to face your fears slowly, saying that you could see him without him seeing you.

You saw him once during their concert in America. Seokjin looked like a prince when you were a child. But now, he was like a king. His persona screamed elegance. He looked happier too as he danced and sang with his bandmates. It was apparent that life had been kind to him. You thought you could finish the whole concert without panicking, but Jin looked a little too long at your direction. And that was when you ran away.

“Do I really have to?” You asked you boss sheepishly, borderline on begging him not to send you back to that place.

He looked at you with an exasperated face, “Do you want to keep your job or not?”

“Right now…” you trailed off, your utter aversion of going back to South Korea was somehow outweighing your desire to eat and afford a roof on your head. “I’m not sure I want to.”

You sighed as you stepped out of the airport. Your company prepared ahead of time, arranging hotel for the whole month you would be staying in this country. You crafted a well-planned schedule which would take you around the pertinent parts of South Korea. You promised yourselves that you would be smart with your time so you could leave as soon as possible with the finished project your company sent you for.

You were expecting a calm and quiet first day.

You really were.

You were praying for that, in fact.

“I apologize, but our system cannot find your name.”

You flashed the hotel receptionist a tight smile, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm yourself. “Can you try one last time?”

She nodded reluctantly, but the result was the same. No room was booked under your name. You thanked her for her time before you attempted to call your boss to no avail. You knew it was probably due to timezone difference, but you couldn’t help but curse him in your head. You would so demand a raise once you get back. You tried booking at another hotel but weirdly enough, all of the rooms were already booked. You even tried booking for an airbnb but the ending was the same.

It was eventually seven in the evening when you swallowed your pride and called her. Mrs. Kim was elated that you were finally back, her motherly warmth could be felt despite her being out of the country at the moment for their anniversary. She did instruct you to go to a house that was an hour away from Seoul. She gave you the passcode and said she would see you as soon as she arrived back to South Korea. By the time you arrived at the white, modern house, it was already almost midnight. The jet lag and the timezone difference were starting to get to you that you decided to shower then sleep rather than touring the house. You would do that tomorrow.

But tomorrow was different.

For the first time in years, you slept so deeply. You had never felt rested since the day of the accident. But today, you felt so serene, so rested. It must have been the wondrous bed that lured you to sleep, or it must have been the extreme weariness from your travel. And probably, it must have been the warmth beside you, your cheek resting on a beating heart.

Wait.

What?

You opened your eyes in sudden alertness, all traces of sleep now gone from your body. The first thing you saw was a plain, white shirt and a pair of black shorts of whomever you were sleeping on top of. The shirt stretched out over a muscular chest and your mind was hopelessly telling you that he smelled familiar…

Slowly, as to not alert whoever this strange man was, you pushed your body away from the man you unknowingly made your bed. You felt his hand resting on the small of your back fell on the bed. With wide eyes and shallow breaths, you looked up at the face of the man you never thought you’d see again- only to find him already looking at you with hooded eyes.

Seokjin gazed at you with warmth, his plump lips lifting on the sides.

“Miss me, princess?”

Hiraeth II

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.58)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development but the pack won't let you drown. They have different ideas on how to help you. Some more damaging than others.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, scent marking, Nightmares, graphic depiction of fake character death, Discussions of past rape, No explicit depictions of past rape/sexual assault, past domestic-abuse, flashbacks, safe-wording during sex (Sorta), unpleasant sexual encounters, under-negotiated kink, mentioned sex toys, crying during sex, Sad blow jobs, small dick jungkook, allusions to past eating disorders, anxiety, implied self-hate, self-esteem issues, non-verbal main character.

W/c: 12.9k

A/N: this chapter was originally supposed to be a lot longer- but i got too in depth with it and had to split it up. This is easily one of the more heavy chapters of bily (and that's saying something), so please be mindful of the tags! For anyone wanting to skip the super triggering parts in the next chapter i've highlighted a sentence in red font both after the first triggering section and before the very triggering ending.

Special thanks to @imperiussexrex for helping me with jk's part <3 they're the bestest <3

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

"Sleep well, my lovely little spy."

Jin’s eyes flutter open, looking up at the beta who's watching him with a gentle but noticeably tense smile. Jin’s mouth is dry, he could pretend he didn’t hear anything but there would be no use. The truth wouldn’t change.

"Holy shit.” Jin’s whole body is ridged. Ready to run. In panic mode. But Yoongi’s hand settles on his shoulder. It’s the same touch as always and just as gentle and kind as it was both this mourning and 6 years ago. Yoongi has always been a kind soul, regardless of every secret Jin's ever learned to love about him.

Letting himself be known in return feels a little bit more perilous. Jin’s heart thuds against his fingertips. He swallows hard.

Yoongi hums, agreeing with Jin’s assessment. He runs a hand gently through Jin’s hair. Tugging away loose a knot. “Holy shit indeed.”

Everything is fine. In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is absolutely fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine, everything is in fact- falling apart. Like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you.)

Jin and Yoongi can only hope.

It’s only hope after all. How much damage can it really do?

~-~

Your unraveling starts with the Nightmares.

Tonight, it’s a dark tangle of half-forgotten moments. A movie with all of the scariest scenes copied and pasted. Bright punctures of feelings like blood dripping down your chin and the tang of it in your mouth. Geumjae’s scent in your nose as he shoves your mouth against his skin. All of it. Every unhappy memory that your psyche has locked away for later drags you down like the tide would drag a stone to a watery grave.

Until the moments condense like a figure rising through fog and you’re sitting in that house again. The one with the yellow brocade curtains pulled closed across the windows so that no one sees what happens inside.

You're sitting with Geumjae at the dining room table. The elaborate meal in front of you rises with steam and smells divine calling you like a moth to honey. The cutlery is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. A million dancing tiny versions of you stare back with vacant doll-like eyes.

You remember this meal; you remember what happened to you on this morning. The soreness between your legs reminds you of that horror. You remember how hard you worked after he left in the morning after leaving you in a bloody heap on the bathroom floor. You remember hoping that if you did everything you absolutely could to prepare this meal, He’d be satisfied and he wouldn’t hurt you again.

But avoiding rape is never quite so easy.

It was foolish to hope back then. Geumjae was a man of routine and he required your body every morning and evening without fail. But hoping is so hard to avoid, like an itch under your skin that demands biting nails, a furious sort of wanting. Hope is nothing more than a chain that drags you through the sludge when you think it might be your buoy.

In this nightmare, the other chairs at the table aren’t empty like they usually are. It’s not just you here.

He must have taken a needle and stitched your mouth shut (like he always threatened) because you feel powerless to scream at Namjoon to get away to stay back. You can do nothing more than watch as he leans over and says something to Geumjae that makes him smile. His smile makes him look like Yoongi; who sits at the head of the table and nurses a glass of wine while scowling.

Jin is on Namjoon's other side, hair combed back from his face in a way that makes Seokjin look absurdly pretty. The picture of delicate omega composure. Each of them eats like they haven't in days, shoveling food into their mouths like it’s their last meal.

Jungkook is by your side and asks if you’re going to eat your dinner roll. Puffy and crusty bread that he never would be able to eat in real life. You watch powerlessly as he scarfs it down like he hasn’t ever eaten anything more delicious. Licking his fingers from the crumbs when he finishes.

Tae is dressed in your jewels this time, not Jimin's. The necklace Geumjae gave you for your second anniversary digs into her collar bones as if it was pinned there. Like a butterfly on a piece of cardboard. Glittering with more diamonds than seem possible. Like one of those Instagram filters, every reflection mark turned glittery. Jimin’s suit is like something out of vogue.

One moment you’re looking at the perfectly edible food and the next you’re watching it rot before your very eyes. The meat greying and melting. The salad wilts gooey and spoiled. The fancy porcelain plates writhing with worms and maggots and creepy crawlies that slither out of nowhere. A spider inches its way up your fork.

No one notices. No one realizes that the bites they bring to their lips are poison. Jin licks his lips, the skin already greying and cracking.

Geumjae looks up at you from his plate, grinning all the while. Collar starched white. You haven’t heard his voice in so long but your mind remembers the exact cadence of it in perfect detail.

“What’s wrong princess? Aren’t you going to eat up?

When you look back at them it's already too late. Namjoon’s slumped in his chair staring blankly forward with bloody eyes. When you look Jin’s got his head half gone. Cut away. Wriggly things curl behind what's left of his eye.

Tae’s collarbones are bleeding where the diamond collar sits. Ribbons drip down her bodice. Jimin’s white shirt is slowly blooming red too. Bullet wounds pepper his chest. One on his shoulder and a cluster of them over his heart.

Jungkook slumps over his plate seizing until he’s still. Still the way that dolls are. Dead. Looking at you with wide vacant eyes that go grey with congealing blood.

Yoongi's hands are burning, fire licking up his clothes and he does nothing to put it out. Burning and bubbling and boiling. Skin peeling up like paint beneath the flames.

Hoseok is the only one not at the table.

Across from you, Geumjae smiles again. Baring his teeth in that animal way of his. “What’s wrong princess? I thought you said you loved them- aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

One moment he’s across the table and the next he’s leaning over you, back in that bedroom that was your hellhole less than a year ago. Pulling you by your hips to the end of the bed when you try to twist away. He fumbles with his belt buckle.

The sheets burn against your skin like its rug burn and although you weakly push at his chest. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. Your strength is nothing compared to his. It never was enough in real life anyway.

“No- no I don’t want- please don’t,” you choke. Trying to get him off of you, when he opens his mouth there are maggots there too.

You never did find out what they did with Geumjae’s body. But now you know as the rotting corpse of your dead husband assaults you. Boney hands grab your wrists as the worms drip out, dangle, and wriggle, falling onto your face and-

One of the terrible things about the big nest upstairs is that it’s really easy to get trapped in the middle with no easy way out.

Hobi finds himself in that position when he wakes. It’s the middle of the night, nearly 3 am probably when he’s roused by the familiar ache in his stomach that tells him he needs to pee.

The shades are pulled across the windows keeping the light out, and what little slips through is kept out by a thin curtain that sections off the nest from the rest of the room. Shielding the familiar lumps of packmates buried beneath the nest slumbering away.

It feels good to have all of you sleeping in one space, the instinctual pleasure flutters and builds on the edge of Hobi’s consciousness as he lifts his head. Barely opening his eyes. It feels homey in the way that Namjoon's rut nest hadn't. It's a true nest, Smelling thick and cakey sweet all of your scents drench it now after a few days of you all sleeping here. After finding the dead body, the decision had been unanimous. No more sleeping separately. No more splitting up between the upstairs nest and the remnants of yours downstairs.

Even though it's a new space some things never change. Jimin still sleeps at the edge near the bottom, guarding the nest from the most logical point of vulnerability. Although that might be because of last week.

The pack has made a few other adjustments in terms of safety since you and Hobi found the dead body. Many a moment has hobi walked into a room with Jin and Yoongi only to have them fall silent. But he doesn't have to ask what new precautions they've agreed upon.

They’ve fallen back into the habit of letting each other know when they get to work safely and when they leave, and when to expect them home (the same habit they had just after yoongi left actually) Phone locations are perpetually turned on just in case. But Hobi knows the only time any of them feel truly settled is when they’re all up here.

The nest is big. Big enough for all of you to sleep comfortably, even all sprawled out. But as thoughtful as Yoongi was when he constructed the space he certainly did not think about how hard it would be to leave for a midnight bathroom break given the walls that close in on three sides.

Now, Hobi is trapped and bound by blankets and fancy pillows and the gently sleeping bodies of his pack all around him. The border is high and fluffed. It’s in an alpha's nature to be careful around his packmates and it goes against something very basic in Hobi to even think about disturbing the carefully placed pillows and blankets, the general purposeful disarray of such a cozy nest. Alphas simply don’t fuck with omega nests.

But on the other hand, he’s seriously stuck.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Jin are at the bottom blocking off the most logical point of egress. Jin’s head rests on Jimin's shoulder, dark hair fanning. Yoongi is tangled up with Tae (her hair in these little puffy rollers). And Jungkook’s star fished and spread out by the top edge, right where Hobi was. His fingers rest under his shirt like he’s been rubbing at his stomach. Snoring softly.

Hobi’s heart swells just looking at them.

The only safe avenue of exit where Hobi won’t be climbing over two people is near the bottom left, close to Jin and Namjoon, where you lie on your side, cheek pillowed. Chest rising up and down a little rapidly in the darkness. It’s so dark that Hobi doesn’t see it at first.

Hobi’s so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize right away that you’re not as undisturbed as the others. That you occasionally twitch like a puppy.

Hobi is no stranger to maneuvering his lithe body around sleeping packmates, muscles straining as he very gently pulls himself over you. Depressing the mattress by your side. His baggy sleep shirt momentarily brushes your face as he shifts over you.

Your reaction is instinctual, one moment asleep and the next awake. Your scent going sour all at once. Exploding in a rush. You push out with your arms, still in the nightmare.

One second Hobi’s on the bed the next he’s stumbling out of it, Barely keeping himself from falling face-first onto the floor. Bare feet slide on the polished wood when he gets them under him. Cursing out a brief “What the fuck?” looking back, ready to be angry at being shoved.

But then he sees that you're sitting up, trembling so hard that your hands can't grip the blanket to get it off of you. Eyes wide and glassy with panic. You blink and blink, lower lip wobbling.

There is a single moment where he just looks at you, but then you let out a small (and admittedly pathetic) chirp.

There is nothing like a chirp that tugs on an alpha’s hindbrain, that drags Hobi's instincts to the forefront like a hook in a fish's mouth. He's honestly surprised that the sound doesn't wake anyone else. Maybe because it's so quiet, so small.

It’s just a dream, just a very bad dream, and your pack is sleeping softly around you. The next thing you feel is Hobi gently crushing you to his chest. Smelling like caramel and boy. Tenderly whipping back your hair from your face. His warm fingertips press against your tender temples dislodging the last bit of you that can't tell if this is real yet.

“Pup? What’s wrong- what happened?"

Hobi looks about as different from Geumjae as anyone possibly could, his jaw slender where Geumjae was wide, eyes bright where his went dark and hooded. Unthreatening and normal brown in the glow.

But just like the dream, you can’t fucking speak.

“Fuck- it was just a dream, whatever it was- it’s not real- I’m-”

You’re shaking and crying and you can’t respond. Your throat is all tight. All of you that is usually happy and gentle is reduced small and scared and quiet. You can't tell where the shadows end and where reality begins. You can only feel his hands. That's the only thing that feels real beyond the terror.

You can't look around; you can't look around at the others- too scared that they'll be dead.

Thank God for the physical nature of Hobi’s job. Herking bags of soil and 30-gallon trees has honestly done him good because it means he can carry you downstairs with a little effort.

Real panic circles his head like a bunch of buzzards, threatening to pick his heart clean. "Hang on- here we go." He turns on each of the lights one by one by leaning into them. Shoulder hitting the plastic, the two of you safer with each click. "See- there isn't anything to be scared of! There's no one here but us."

Hobi is right, Hobi would never lie to you. This kitchen is not the same one from your nightmares. The blinds are blinds and not curtains, drawn to keep out the streetlights not any prying eyes. The old rickety table where the pack has their meals isn't piled with food at all. Only some tangerines in a wooden bowl in the center.

You’re small and shaky in an extra big shirt of Namjoon’s that pools on your thighs when he places you on gently the countertop with a small 'oof'. You're already a little more lucid, eyes darting from the light to the shadows and still trembling faintly. Hobi knows instantly from the stillness that you’re nonverbal. Mouth uncooperative. Your brain is a mix of misplaced adrenaline and cortisol. You smell terrified.

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream, here-” Hobi fills up a yellow plastic cup with water and tips it against your lips. The cold soothes your throat but not to the point that you can speak. You’re unwilling to detangle yourself from him. Real and warm and there now that you’ve got him. hand tangled in the front of his shirt, clinging to him.

He hums as he dabs a cold dishcloth across on your hot cheeks. “You’re okay- I’ve got you.” You lean into his hands, legs parted so that he can stand between them. You look so sad and so small that Hobi’s heart hurts.

You don’t want to speak, really don’t want to but you force yourself anyways. “Don’t remember them- usually- Or wake up in the middle- sorry- M' sorry.”

Your eyes itch, and your face feels all puffy as he continues to dab at it. The cloth is rough and Cold, but hobi's warm where his skin touches yours.

Alive and safe. you barely want to blink incase you miss it.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Hobi continues to dab at your cheeks, “You get them often?” You shake your head instead of responding and Hobi’s scent goes thick with upset, burning sugar ever so slightly smokey. You sniffle still sort of crying and Hobi does the only thing he can think of.

Maybe it’s just that he’s half asleep himself, or an expression of his alpha protectiveness. The ringing in his ears says protect packmate, provide for packmate, soothe.

Hobi’s scent gland brushes against yours with an electric zing. Pushing you from shaky to boneless nearly instantaneously. He drags his throat and chin across your left shoulder, and then your right.

it takes real effort for him to keep his palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter while he does it but at least it has the desired effect of banishing the last bit of sogginess from your cakey scent. Your instincts purr alphas here, alphas going to keep you safe, keep the shadows at bay.

Your scent goes sweeter and your half-asleep body goes mailable as you lean into him. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, Hobi huffs a soft laugh. It feels sort of nice, having you close like this. He knows how omega's get, Jungkook goes sleepy puppet soft when he's scent marked this close to sleep too.

Yoongi would want Hobi to do this right? Yoongi would want Hobi to comfort his mate. He’d do it himself if he was awake. Hobi’s just being a good packmate. Right?

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he pulls away. Is it just your imagination or is he a little reluctant?

A startled chirp bursts from your lips, and you clamp your hand back over your mouth. but hobi's laugh echoes loud off the high ceilings, "It's alright pup." You try to speak again but Hobi shushes you, there’s no need for you to push yourself. Not with him. Not right now.

The slant of the light across Hoseok’s face isn’t right. Too grey and yellow from the light in the hall. It’s too late for it to be morning yet and too dark for you to quiet your heartbeat. Hobi can feel it, jackrabbit fast against his throat.

If he's here, that means the nightmare really was only that. A nightmare. Hobi wouldn't be wrapped around you if the rest of the pack were dead. You don't need to go back upstairs and double-check.

Now if you could only stop crying.

“Here,” Hobi starts to pull away and you make a panicked sound, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, let me just get my bag-” You shake while he’s gone, sitting on the countertop, stumbling when you get off of it, knees weak. Holding the edge until he comes and gets you with an arm under your shoulders, transferring you effortlessly to the couch.

When did Hobi get so good at this? You’d be inclined to think this was just another dream (one of those shameful ones that you don’t even mention to Yoongi) but you’re not sure you could have dreamed this up.

“Lights off or on?” You shiver so he goes one by one turning on the overhead lights and then the lamps, the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen too. There’s not a hint of shadow here, no monster that he couldn’t guard you from.

You can still see the light behind your eyes when you close them. Blinking slowly like a cat would. Hobi has his headphones in his hand, not his usual earbuds but the dilapidated black over-the-ear headphones with peeling stickers on the sides that have been his almost as long as Yoongi has (they might have been stolen from the record store- back when Yoongi's rebellious streak ran a little wider).

The second they go around your ears the world dampens and your heartbeat slows.

“I’ve got you.” Hobi mouths, reaching to pull your head to lie against his shoulder, the blue light flicker of his phone screen hurts your eyes as he scrolls through some songs and puts one on. It’s slow and soft, mostly instrumental except for faint vocals. You can’t hear what Hobi says but he pulls you to rest against his side. Settling.

He doesn’t make you talk about the nightmare. Doesn’t make you talk at all. You melt, pressing your face into his shoulder as hard as you can, your shaking relaxing with every word. Every soft hum. It’s working, your trembling is only skin-deep now. In a few minutes, you won't be shaking at all.

“Go to bed,” he asks, even though you can't hear him. Pillowed against him. The songs shift quietly. Your hand somehow gets under Hobi’s shirt and presses against the skin of his hip. Holding it softly so that he doesn’t go anywhere, it feels like a bit of a thank you.

You cling to him and he lets you. You probably can’t hear him but he still repeats, “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~-~

Yoongi’s never shot up faster in his life, leaving part of himself in the dream. He can feel the panic down the bond as he stumbles. The nest is too empty. Yoongi’s sleep-sluggish brain counts the number of bodies and he goes cold when he counts five and not seven. Pure shuddering terror bleeding down his back like he's just been doused with cold water.

Where are you? Where is Hobi? There is something wrong- something seriously wrong. Yoongi can feel it on the back of his tongue, the taste of your despair acidic. Once a familiar feeling, now lashing him like lightning.

Communicating directly through the mating mark isn’t something that happens often anymore for the two of you. It did when the bond was fresher, but now that it’s settled the connection has dulled. In the way that clothes go worn and comfortable. It’s not usually a stabbing pain like this. Such a visceral feeling that it wakes Yoongi up from it.

Yoongi stumbles to the door following your scent like a man possessed. The way it shifts from the nest. Panicked to not alone. Hobi’s panic too saturates the air. Yours is rainy wet and Hobi’s is burnt and over-sweet, faintly medicinal.

There are sounds on the stairs. Footsteps rouse Hobi just as he’s finally fallen asleep. His neck aches from how he’s been leaned back against the couch And he winces as it cracks.

“Hobi?” Yoongi calls cautiously. At his waist, your fingers tangle loosely in his shirt holding onto him like he’s a lighthouse in a storm, clinging to him even as you sleep. Hobi realizes he’s got a bit of your hair stuck to his lips. Spitting it out.

“Over here.“ Hobi’s jaw pops when he yawns. Yoongi stumbles to you because he can’t stay away when you’re like this. When you need him. You don’t rouse when Yoongi touches you, cupping your cheeks. Eyes feasting on the crusty salt around your eyes, the faint silvery shimmer of dried tear tracks across your cheeks.

“She had a nightmare- couldn’t sleep with the lights off so- thank god you're here I have to pee like so fucking bad-” Hobi says quietly.

Yoongi definitely does not eye the way that your hand stays loosely knotted in the front of his shirt, or note verbally the way that you smell like him. Drenched in hobi's scent and clinging to him.

“Daisy,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit surprised and alot in love, tucking his Hobi’s hair behind his ear. Standing over the two of you looking a little shaken. Yoongi is an expert at moving you softly detangling your hand from Hobi's shirt without waking you and freeing Hobi from his self-imposed prison.

He's still shaken when Hobi comes back from the bathroom. Hobi can’t blame him. You don’t really have the best track record when it comes to disappearing together. First the car crash last month, and now the dead body. It’s understandable why Yoongi’s panicked a bit.

But now he just looks at Hobi. Eyes scanning his face, a small smile beveling the edge of his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hobi says. The faint murmur of music is barely there, you're still asleep with his headphones on. Hobi had panic made a playlist on his phone after you’d fallen asleep. Putting only the most gentle instrumentals on it.

So what if he’d saved it with a cat emoji and a purple heart? Yoongi can’t possibly know that just by looking at him.

Yoongi doesn’t respond and Hobi tucks his chin, looking down at you, sleeping soundly still. The nightmare must have really tired you out because you're out like a light. His voice goes softer, like the emotion in his throat is constraining his vocal cords.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her panic? That wouldn’t have been kind.”

Yoongi's hand falls onto Hobi's head, rubbing through his hair. the touch feels like a reward. Hobi's not sure what for. “No- it wouldn’t have been Daisy.”

“Like it when you call me that,” Hobi says. Eyelashes flutter as yoongi scratched at the nape of his neck, head bowed. and he can hear the laugh in Yoongi’s voice. Hobi’s not really awake either.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hobi says “I’m not gonna like- freak out and run away if she needs something, like the first time.”

Hobi feels embarrassed about that when he thinks about it. Embarrassed and a little bit fond of the memory every time he sees the train ticket still in his wallet. The top edge is so chewed up that you can hardly tell it’s a ticket anymore.

“Sure,” Yoongi says and Hobi knows he hasn't fooled anyone, least of all your mate. hobi stands up properly, and when his hand falls, yoongi just tugs at his wrist, the callouses on his hands comfortably rough against hobi's skin. “Come on.”

You wake bleary for a handful of seconds when Yoongi puppets you, moving to sprawl out while Hobi discards the back cushions. Yoongi slips Hobi’s headphones off your ears and puts them safely to the side. wordless and publish while yoongi gets one of the blankets to tug it over your form.

Yoongi tuts and doesn't let hobi avoid the same predicament. although it's Infinitely more comfortable than his prior half-crunched position. If Yoongi’s being honest, it sort of looked like Hobi was guarding you. body curled over in a protective stance.

Alpha's are so funny.

Hobi ends up face-to-face with you. His flannel pj set un-buttoned to the middle tugged loose from your tugging earlier. the triangle of his bare chest presses against the bare skin of your collarbone as he shuffles away from the edge of the couch. Your own pj set pulled off one shoulder. Yoongi’s sitting up, his thigh warm against the top of Hobi’s head.

You’re running a fever maybe, worming your way closer to Hobi like you need it. Your nose presses into Hobi’s chest, a little cold at the tip and ticklish. Hobi squirms and Yoongi huffs. Overly fond.

“She does that to me in her sleep too sometimes. Means she likes your scent.” Hobi feels warm, and it’s no secret that his scent fluffs up sweeter, as if encouraging you to enjoy it. You re-settle. falling asleep with your nose tucked into Hobi's sternum.

Fuck you’re both so cute, your hair mixing colors on the pillow- sharing the same one because even being that far apart is too much. Hobi falls asleep with Yoongi combing gentle touches down his back. His favorite way to fall asleep- being touched so casually and consistently. You breathe against his skin, cradled to his chest. Sleeping soundly. Finally soothed.

Hobi watches you until sleep takes him.

~-~

Unfortunately, that’s not the last time you’re woken by a nightmare in the coming weeks

Over the next few days, it seems like more often than not Yoongi and Hobi wake to the scent of your terror in the air. Quieting your little sobs with soothing touches in the bathroom. Blankets are brought into the space so that you can curl up in the bathtub, darkness kept at bay by the overhead lights, its lingering shadow curling underneath the doorway trying to drag you down.

They don’t mind, at least they tell you they don’t mind when it eventually comes time to wake in the morning and your words are barely intact. Soft and rough in a way they haven’t been in months.

For you, it feels infuriating. Your non-verbalness might only be a temporary state but that doesn’t mean that overcoming it isn’t tiring. It’s frustrating. Working so hard each day to speak only to have it wrenched away again at night.

Always.

Always you wake up from your nightmares non-verbal. Guided to somewhere light by Hobi so that your fear of the dark won't rouse the rest of the pack. Soothed back to sleep by his music and some scenting. Waking up sometime after sunrise, struggling but better. A routine.

As for the pack…

“It feels like she’s going backward,” you hear Jin confess one morning while he brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. he sounds afraid (he is afraid after waking up to you gone from the nest yet again for the 5th time this week- and it's only thursday). It's obvious Jin doesn't know you're within earshot but the double doors that lead to the bathroom are wide open.

Hobi sends you a fraught look. You’ve just come back upstairs after spending a few hours in the Living Room. You're only able to risk a few more hours of sleep because the sun is turning the sky all grey-blue.

“Do you think-” What he says next is jumbled by the sound of someone turning on the shower, Jungkook or jimin maybe (the upstairs shower is large enough that honestly- all eight of you might be able to fit given you where willing to risk any soap related injuries).

Namjoon’s answering hum is all dark thunder. jin's proposed solution a mystery. “No, I don’t think that would help.”

Sometimes it’s not just Hobi and Yoongi who wake up with you.

Sometimes it’s Jimin. Holding your shoulder with that firm touch looking like he’s about to snap his teeth at any incoming shadows. Sometimes you wake and he’s already sitting at the edge of the bed watching the stairs and the windows. Shirtless, legs splayed with his handgun balanced across his knees.

Or is it just your imagination? Is that just another dream because you certainly don’t see any weapons when he and Hobi pull you from the bed a few seconds later?

They take shifts. Jin and Namjoon blanket you on both sides, soft rumbles soothing you, their quiet banter a welcome melody in your private nest downstairs. Jungkook the next night- who admittedly just wraps his body around you and goes back to sleep so quick it makes you jealous, curled around your spine while you listen to Tae read you a late-night story.

Tae’s delicate murmur does all the character's voices just right. Her lips are both mystery and familiarity. She always seems to crack open the world with the first line.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

They never make you speak; never treat you like they’re too tired even though you know they are. You can see it on their faces, on Hobi’s eyebags getting greyer by the day. Hobi’s the only one who's there every time a nightmare drags you awake. Even Yoongi doesn’t wake up every time.

(Although you confess it's more because you develop a routine. You and Hobi sleep by the side of the nesting nook, where it’s easy to get out without moving around too much. Close enough to each other that he often wakes smelling like you and you always wake smelling like him).

You try to talk with him about it. Guilt makes your heart feel all stuffy. Is it possible to get a heart cold?

“You know, you could just leave your headphones out-"

“No- don’t worry about it, I’ll just make it up later.”

Always. Always Hobi wakes and plops his headphones on your ears. Sometimes he seems awfully lively, grinning and cracking jokes when you burrow into his chest and wipe your tears on his shirt.

“I am like- among the top 10 worst sponges in history you know?”

Sometimes he wakes you from the nightmares before you’ve had the chance to jerk awake. He recognizes the tell-tale stillness, the quick breaths. He never lets you suffer for long. Waking you with a hand on your shoulder. Allowing you to shove him just a little because he knows you're just reacting to your dream and him bleeding together.

"It's just me- you're okay, I've got you."

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re not the only one who can’t sleep lately.

During the day you spend a lot of time in the nesting pod, catching up on sleep while it's still light outside. dreading the afternoons and evenings when the shadows linger like a looming storm. Alone and safe and quiet.

Occasionally you're joined by noodle, purring up against your stomach. Meowing at you until you lift your arm and he can cuddle close. Sometimes you feel like he knows you’re sadder than you say you are. That when the others aren’t there to watch you, you’re stiller, less mobile than normal. You don't even click away at your phone, half the time you forget to charge it anyway.

Hobi would never tell you- but a few afternoons ago he’d come home to Noodle waiting for him on the front step. He’d lead Hobi inside, little kitty face glaring back at him every few steps. Circling his curled form and yowling when he dared to take a second to take his shoes. off. Panicked and nervous, all but biting on his ankles before he led Hobi into the sunroom. His bushy tail held high.

There he’d meowed woefully at your nesting pod where you slept soundly. So loud that Hobi was worried it would wake you. As if he was trying to say “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Hobi had just quieted the cat with a soft shush and picked him up. Closing the door behind both of them. “Let her sleep nu,” he’d gotten nothing but a tearful meow in response. Some squirming, but no claws. “What do you expect me to do? I’m trying my hardest.”

Noodle keeps his secrets. Hobi’s question goes unanswered by the cat- who’d simply squirmed out of his hold and gone to wait by the door to be let back in. Glaring at Hobi’s retreating figure like he’d been betrayed.

Noodle seems to know something that the pack doesn't. He's sat in your lap during dinner and breakfast every single night this week, especially on the days you’ve slept more.

Hobi continues to try his hardest. He brings home flowers from the shop. He says they’re for Jin but puts them by the nesting pod and no one even bothers to tease him. He makes sure that you don’t fall out of the habit of going on late-night drives. Even though you don’t go back to the beach again quite yet. The memories there are too prescient.

Hobi takes you to the winding mountain road again. Drag racing one night with Jimin, because what good is trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before sunrise when you’ll just wake anyway? You might as do something fun until you’d wake up normally.

You leave that night a little more wobbly-legged than Hobi will admit to Namjoon when he asks later. "I'm never getting into a car with you again Minnie- what the fuck."

But sometimes the alphas do use the sunroom when you’re there.

It’s kind of nice to hear them on the other edge of your senses. When you’re dozing and Tae and Jimin want to play video games. their shouts of happiness and false outrage better than their screams of terror.

When Hobi and Jungkook want to do some stretching before they take an afternoon run, their giggles push out the memories of cruel words that ring in your ears. Yoga mats all stretched out and noodle perched on the edge of Hobi's multicolored one. Watching you, tail flicking back and forth.

They'll never know how much they help just by being there.

Or when they work on rearranging Hobi’s plants around. Fitting them into different spots like a jigsaw puzzle and moving them from room to room. He doesn’t mean to be indecisive about it, he’s just trying to find the best home for each of them.

They take the big banana tree upstairs to put it in the nesting room because that honestly has really good light and Hobi’s baby can’t be compromised. They move the monstera there too and switch the string of pearls for three big ferns hanging above your nesting nook. Shifting A big fig tree that honestly looks kinda pretty from the entryway to the corner, hanging part of the way over the small sectional.

A leggy orchid that someone bought Namjoon as a “thank you for not letting me go braindead” present is the wimpiest and smallest of the bunch. Hobi's in the process of rehabilitating it. For now, it sits on the window sill growing a single pathetic leaf.

Hobi tries to spend a lot of time nearby when you’re trying to sleep, he always seems to show up when you're having the hardest time ignoring your thoughts.

They're getting tired of you being a goddamn mess every time. Why can't you just get better? It's pathetic, Hobi is fine. Why are making such a big deal over this? But deep down you know it's not just the dead body that caused all of this.

Things are slow at the flower shop in the fall with only the occasional wedding until the Christmas season starts up. Hobi talks to you about it while he waters his plants and trims up some leaves that are dying. He’s definitely not looking forward to making bows for the whole month of December and wrestling with wreaths. He’d much rather talk to you about his ferns. The big stag leaf one that’s in the corner by the tv. And the big fluffy ones that hang above the nesting pod.

“I know they're messy but If I overwinter them we can hang them back on the porch next year, They looked so nice!”

You hum from the pod, turning your cheek to look up at him. he's got his flannel rolled up to his elbows, a shirt underneath that looks homey and warm. Hobi’s scent grows sweet. “They did look really cool this year, kind of like big green soot sprites.”

“We should watch spirited away again.”

“We should.”

You stretch out in the nesting pod while he fiddles with one of the fronds, pulling off the dead leaves with a crumple. You stretch your curled-up legs, toes brushing the ratan sides of the pod.

“If I was a plant where would you put me?”

“Probably where it’s sunniest.”

You can hear his smile on the words, you hum and go back to sleep while he works. Hobi checks your breathing every few minutes, just to make sure you don’t need to be woken up again.

Hobi never talks about the nightmares and never asks what they’re about. Which is something you’re thankful for as the days go on and they get worse and worse. You don’t know how many more nights you can wake up gasping without telling them what you're dreaming about. That it's the idea of them dying that has you so panicked. not to mention the nightly revision of the worst parts of your abuse.

Yoongi doesn't always let you escape without a bit of interrogation. Badgering you until you tell him that he needs to stop.

Jin’s just as bad, constantly hovering. You found your sleep schedule, an estimated hours of sleep you’ve gotten scrawled on the edge of a newspaper in Namjoon's handwriting. He's a little generous with his calculation- You know you haven't slept 13 hours in the last 4 days. You’d crumpled up the page and thrown it in the garbage.

In the morning you find out their motive behind it. Blinking down at your cereal and at the red raspberries bobbing in the milk. You can't help but get defensive about this; because really when you go non-verbal so often about this- what good would talking do?

“Jin, I’m not going to therapy.”

Jin looks a little bit less like his usually put-together form, button-up shirt a little looser than it might have been a few weeks back. Yoongi rubs down his shoulders as he passes. Work has been keeping Jin later and later- anytime someone asks he says something about a problem child at the home for forgotten pups that needs Jin's full attention.

It's so very like him to suggest therapy.

He pulls his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it into something orderly. Abandoning his usual routine of gel and mouse. “I’m not saying you have to go consistently- just once or twice, you went through something-“ he breaks off when Yoongi taps his hip, shaking his head.

You’re twisting your hands over your lap, again and again. But the word lands even though it was unsaid. Whereas before you and Hobi had a smart retort- now- the word feels less hollow, more heavy.

And Jin's not just talking about the body.

Jin doesn’t want to be frank, but you don’t look the best. Maybe it’s because you’d been so steadily getting better that they hardly remembered what sadness looks like on you. But now it looks like this; you sitting at the island counter, looking at your food, too nauseous to eat. Actually worried you're going to vomit if you try.

Any other morning, Jin would sit by you and coach you through it, would sit and wait for you and move you somewhere safe, somewhere softer to prod. He'd chase this worry with gentle touches. maybe he'd give you a gentle settling if you were feeling like you needed to reach that happy hazy head space to eat.

Any other morning Jin wouldn’t leave you.

But this morning, the clock says that Jin has exactly 20 minutes before he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late and miss the debriefing on the latest string of murders and drug-related reports. including a very well worded anonymous tip. it's important that jin's there for that.

It’s not enough time to drag you to some corner of the house and scent you happy. Or better- scruff you down into omegaspace where you’d be mailable and more agreeable under his touch.

Yoongi's eyes say, go I've got this, and Jin has never been more thankful for lovely enemies and a partner in crime.

But Jin simply does not have enough time to love you as he should. If Jin has to choose between making you feel loved and making you more physically safe he'll choose the latter every single time.

Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and criminal empires won’t fall that quickly either.

“They’ll go away, I know they’ll go away because they did last time,” you reaffirm, only half believing it. You and Yoongi don’t talk about when you first moved into this house, but the truth is these nightmares aren’t really anything new for either of you.

At least this time they don’t come with you hurling your guts up every night. At least this time your words return in the middle of the day. At least you feel somewhat human right now.

Jin sends a fraught look in Hoseok ’s direction. Clearly requesting backup. He holds his hands up, straw in his mouth and ice coffee in his hand. “I’ll go if she goes.” Is all he says backing away. Clearly not ready to take Jin’s side with this. Late for work himself.

Jin almost misses when you guys were adversarial, rather than banded together as a unified front.

I never expected the pups to unionize

He sends Namjoon in a text a few hours later, After no less than 3 separate meetings that have him feeling more than a little tired himself.

Joonie (1:18): Really? I’d thought you would have been ready, no plans to destabilize the monarchy up your sleeve?

Jin can’t stop his smile, he’s conscious of who might be watching, so he hides it with his palm. Flirting on the FBI’s time has never felt so good.

What would you recommend?

Joonie (1:23): Spanking and sweets probably.

That at least had made Jin feel a little bit more at ease. But he knows what Namjoon really means, that he’s saying they should talk about this later face to face. Or worse there isn’t an easy solution. Namjoon had warned him that a request for therapy, however gentle and well-worded it was, might not go over well.

But what else can you do when someone won’t accept your concern? When love falls short? For the first time ever Jin is unsure what you need.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell that they’re being overly gentle with you. Treating you with velvet gloves.

Namjoon barks an order at Jungkook and Hobi when they rough house too close to you. jostling you where you stand unsteady in the bathroom. Tae lets loose a sleepy growl when Jungkook back hugs you one morning- something ordinarily innocuous but now makes you flinch hard. hand pressed over your heart to stop its thundering. Both times Jungkook tucks his tail smelling sour at being scolded even though it's really not his fault.

Everyone's instincts are running on high. Your scent is so off these days. Something about it muted and only getting duller. Jin didn't realize until the other day when he tried to find a pillow that smelled like you while nesting and couldn't.

The head of the FBI's largest organized crime task force, brought to sniffles over not being able to find the right pillow. What would Jin's enemies think?

Yoongi had only sighed, and relinquished his shirt to Jin's nesting. At least that was the next best thing.

but it's not only the little things that they're holding off from; it's sex too. You can clearly tell that they want to instigate something when you come upstairs one night after spending a few minutes with Tae in the library room.

Jungkook sat's tight across Namjoon’s lap. Moving his hips in a way that's sensual clinging to the pack alphas bare chest and licking into his mouth like an omega starved.

You know what they want to do- christen the nest in a way, truly break it in and make it smell like the pack.

But they'd stilled at your appearance and you'd made yourself scarce, clearly not ready to be asked to stay (or scarier- asked to leave). When you'd come back after showering the room had smelled of sour unhappy arousal and Jungkook had been pouting on the other side of the nest from Jin and Namjoon.

You hadn't heard the whispered argument. "You're treating her the exact same way you treated me when my seizures went bad."

"That was a different circumstance Koo and you know it."

"Still- it doesn't change the fact that you're making the decision for her instead of making a place that's safe enough for her to decide what she wants."

The idea that Jungkook and the others are holding off for your sake has you feeling even more guilty.

Even Tae- once insatiable, now hardly lifts her head from her computer when you walk into the library room wearing next to nothing. You know it’s just that. Just busyness that she's been spending every available second writing her new story.

But you can’t help but feel odd about it. Half guilty and half extra. Unwelcome.

Neglected isn’t the right word. Neglected is the word that Hobi would use for his orchid or the cactus that he accidentally forgot about outside. Two plants that are equally as finicky, opposites but maybe not in terms of difficulty. One praised for being beautiful, the other coveted for being hard to take care of.

It feels like that a lot of the time, that you're just hard to take care of. you're an adult you shouldn't even need to be taken care of at all.

That night- you toss and turn in the bed. Unable to sleep because you can't help but think about it, your thoughts a rushing torrent of you're such a bother. Maybe they're just trying to let you down easily. Maybe all of the love is a lie. You should try harder, if you try harder to overcome this then maybe they won't ask you to leave.

Sadness has rotted your brain a little, you don't know how to get back, how to stop the spiral. Until your hands are so tight that your nails dig into your palms. Leaving bloody little crescents.

The next day you try to catch up on sleep. In the nesting pod. A dark spot. Out of sight and out of mind, where all broken things go when it's clear they can't be fixed in a way that makes them useful. But it feels like you've only slept a few minutes when you're roused- not from a nightmare, but because someone gets into your nesting pod with you.

You smile in your sleep at the scent of honey, rich and golden. So nice and sweet that it makes you get goosebumps. Jungkook noses at them, dragging his cheek along the hair on your arms, soft and pleasant in that sensory sort of way.

Even though the nesting pod was a gift from Namjoon you'd been clear to Jungkook and Jin that they could use it whenever they wanted to. They're always a little bit more inclined to nest upstairs.

You sleepily hold out your arms for Jungkook, only cracking your eyes a little. You're not prepared for the sight of him in a crop top. blinking as you register it. Your pulse climbing higher. Jungkook doesn't say anything, doesn't say anything at all as he pulls his body along yours, settling mostly on top of you. quiet until you query "Kookie?"

He smells a little like the gym, but more like he'd showered there and then come home. You don't remember what day it is, what his schedule was. But the house is quiet around you, it must be one of his early days then?

His nose rubs smooth little circles along your neck, and when you pull back his eyes are a little glassy. "I miss you," he says, voice cracking a tiny bit. You don't have to ask why he misses you when you're right here. You know and your heart clenches painfully.

you laugh, "you just saw me this morning." but his lower lip wobbles, and you know thats not what he meant. it's frightfully easy to knot your fingers in his hair and pull him down to eye level. "c'm here."

You can tell by the way that Jungkook kisses you that he wants you, his arousal burning skin deep as his tongue laves against your lower lip and his hand slides down your chin to cup your scent gland, fingers pressing over the sensitive skin delicately.

You're so fucking tired.

Jungkook’s sex drive is honestly the highest in the pack, and you know that they usually keep him well tended to. But you also know that because of your predicament, no one’s tended to his needs in the last few days. You can smell it on the edge of his scent. Sweet but overly sweet, like a hovering cloud of settling perfume, unable to settle. Just getting stronger.

It’s not your job, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s job per se, but the idea of turning him down is so displeasing that you won’t even if you’re not really in the mood right now. You're so fucking tired. There isn't room for anything else. you don't have the energy to want this, you don't have the energy to want anything but sleep.

You kiss back, a little gentler than he wants, the soft needy noise he makes against the seam of your mouth tells you just how welcome it is. Your arms are sluggish as they go around his shoulders. He grins happy, and you grin too- because Jungkook’s joy is honestly so infectious. You let him tug you up, tug you out of the nesting pod even though your heart lurches.

This is your use to the pack, isn't it? The youngest omega, the lowest one in the hierarchy. You shouldn't say no and deny Jungkook what he wants. This is the way that he feels free, the way that he makes himself better.

After the pack's sleeping quarters had changed, there’d been a whole debate over where exactly to put the pack's sex toy collection and what to do with their old bedroom on the first floor. The side closet is no longer big enough or in use.

Installing some shelves in the bedroom had been the easiest solution. now they frame either side of the windows, holding Tae's overspill of books at the top and a few display cases. You remember the first day you'd wandered in here in search of your mate and found some suspicious-looking brackets installed along the ceiling studs, sawdust piles sweeper up on the floor.

“It’s totally not a sex dungeon.”

“Babe, you’re making a display for Jungkook’s dildo collection with a built-in sex bench.” At least you can still tease your mate when you're sad like this. Every little semi-normal comment you make feels like seeing the sun during a break from the storm. Even Yoongi's pout is half a smile.

“Just because I want there to be a bench doesn’t mean It’s a sex bench. It could be for like- watching tiktok and stuff. You know Hobi likes to find a spot where he won't bother us.”

“It’s totally a sex bench.”

“Is not.”

Yoongi is too fun to rile up. You'd watched him blush as you and Jungkook had playfully grabbed and swung on the ropes Yoongi was hanging, the heavy thick cotton ones soft to the touch that won’t irritate his loves sensitive skin. testing out the brackets meant for suspension.

Jungkook’s just as giggly and happy when he drags you there now, and your smile is very real pressed to his shoulder. The farthest thing from fake. it might be the first time you've smiled today. Jungkook always makes you feel this way; a little younger, a little bit like you’re sneaking around. That at least feels right.

You're very good at concentrating on the parts of sex that feel good, the parts that you want and not the ones that you don't.

(This morning the others had talked about it with Jungkook. Jimin and Tae had cuddled close to brainstorm. The way they often talk about sex things and pack things. Jimin's snorted honesty still stings.

"I don't know if Yoongi could literally fuck the sadness out of her, but at least it's a suggestion."

Jungkook had felt petulant and whiney, "But why doesn't he just try- if anyone's got a magic just right dick it's him-" Tae had chased Jungkook's disappointment with a kiss.

The truth is; the pack is mostly at a loss with how to help you this time. The most they can do is just stay close and make sure you have everything you need. But lately, not even that has felt like enough. Tae had scrapped her nails down Jungkook's abs, soothing him, with a bit of tingly pain pleasure.

"You're the only one whose bad mood can literally be cured with a good fuck bunny.”)

Yes, Jungkook is trying to make you feel lighter in the only way he knows how right now. But there are different medicines for different hurts for a reason.

Jungkook guides you down to the sex bench, tugging at your shirt a little. Still kissing you. Up close you realize it's actually more of a daybed, styled very attractively with a few throw pillows. One that's more memory foam and sturdy for propping bodies up.

It's no secret how sweet turned on happy Jungkook smells from just a little kissing, just the bare minimum. Jungkook moans- a crocked needy sound, scent pulsing richer in the air. He squirms a little bit, reaching over to one of those shelves. Rummaging in one of the frosted acrylic buckets.

“I’ve had this idea for weeks now that you've taken Joonie’s- fuck- I just- I didn’t know when you’d want to try it but I saw this video online with two omegas and Jin said no but- ha! Here it is!”

You gulp.

The big purple thing is a veritable monster, glittery and double-ended, ridged not like a regular dildo but more like a tentacle. It's about as thick around as your wrist. Namjoon’s a little thicker but still-

it makes fear trickle down your spine, warm and almost bleeding.

Jungkook reads your expression. And the disappointment crests his cheeks, his bunny smile falls, and you feel like you’ve failed already.

At the thought of being filled right now. You feel like you might want to vomit. You try not to have any sort of expression, just a small smile- but fall abysmally short. You’re too tired, too sore, too tight to properly enjoy that.

The idea that your sadness is enough to get in the way of this, what Jungkook so clearly needs is suddenly too much for you to bare. Jungkook needs sex, doesn't he? He needs it to make the seizures feel not quite so damning. He'd told you once- how much he required sex to feel loved. It's his love language right? Isn't this what people always say when they want physical touch?

Who are you to say that your needs are more important than his? You certainly do not love yourself as much as you love him.

Jungkook’s frown is heartbreaking and you easily kiss it away. Making your kisses more eager. You’re a good kisser and a good actor. Your kisses make Jungkook feel all fluttery and hot in the chest, quickly forgetting about the dildo and whatever plans he might have had.

"Just want you- don't want-" words get in the way of kissing, sucking, you mouth at Jungkook's lower lip, making him groan.

Jungkook’s scent gland is a semi-swollen little lump under your teeth as you nibble on it, making him part his legs, grinding up into nothing and letting out a breathless whine. You set yourself across his lap and his big hands quickly fist on your waist pulling you snugly.

You don’t mind this, you really don’t.

It's too routine for you, the first thing that you reach for to avoid saying no. His belt buckle is warm against your palm as you shift so that you can slide to the floor. Pulling your body away from him. he lets out a needy bereft sound. stopping you as you start to tugg at his waistband.

his cheeks are pink, lips red from kisses when you pull back. "I-"

"Let me kiss you here Koo." Let me at least do something. Let me stop feeling so guilty, I know how to fix the guilt even if you don't.

Jungkook catches your chin before you sink to the floor. Jungkook has a hickey on his abs glimmering there just along his hipline. The crop top pulled up to right under his pectorals in a way you know would have the alphas growling and mouthing at his stomach. That's probably how he got the hickey in the first place.

“But you don’t like it.” He says, not quite understanding. Catching your hand as you slide it across his knee.

“I want to try.” You lie, "I-I feel like I’ve lost practice, need to be taught how-” You bat your eyes, looking down and away like you're embarrassed. Just let me do this and make you cum. Just let me get this over with so that we can go back to cuddling and I can feel safer. Jungkook always gets especially cuddly after he's cum too. “I don’t- I don’t do it for the alphas like at all." Your stuttering isn't all faked. You’ve lost practice in a lot of things, but lying clearly isn’t one of them.

“Or Yoongi” Jungkook notes. A little too quickly.

Your heart pulses, Bruised a bit at that. You've never explicitly discussed the abuse you underwent with anyone but Yoongi and Namjoon. You didn't think anyone really noticed how much you don't like giving blowjobs. It's not that you don't want to reciprocate or touch- it's just that once with Geumjae, the choice to reciprocate was taken away from you. The choice to get anything at all was always taken away. It's hard to forget that, to want it again.

You remember his words. He'd always been violent with words before he'd ever gotten violent physically with you. Coercion doesn't feel like it has the same weight compared to that (Hobi would probably argue with you- but his case was different wasn't it?)

"You're so fucking selfish, you could help me in like- 10 minutes but you're choosing not too. We could go back to having a normal fucking evening. I do so much for you and even now when I can't fucking sleep you won't just do this one fucking thing- it's not like I'm asking for much. You're too young, I should have known you wouldn't know how normal relationships function."

It's foolish of you to think that you could be selfish forever. You should get used to this with Jungkook so that it's not so bad with the others later. In case they ever realize how selfish you've been.

“Yeah,” you swallow back a lump in your throat. “But can I? I want to-” You make your eyes wide, biting your tongue hard so that your scent doesn’t go sour.

Jungkook looks like he’s warring with himself for a second but then the hornyness wins out. He pulls his pants down his thighs and you help him, big and muscular as he stands, you on the floor before him. It feels right in a twisted way. See I know my place, see I'm not trying to get away with anything.

Jungkook almost trips when he moves to get a pillow for your knees because he’s not a monster. Namjoon and Jin have taught him well.

Jungkook is not a monster.

If you said no, if you said that you wanted to stop you know he wouldn’t hold it against you. At least not at first, at least not this time. After the 4th or 5th or 10th attempt you know that wouldn't be the case.

Jungkook doesn't even have large enough of a cock for it to feel like a real blowjob. His bunny eyes are wide and eager as you give it a first little kiss. Tentative. You kiss the head again, focusing, dragging your lips up the sides and nuzzling into the skin of his hip, indulging in his scent because at least Jungkook smells nice, smells clean, before you take him into your mouth

Geumjae always smelled a bit like piss. Tasted like it too. At least Jungkook's not like that.

He can be forgiven maybe, for not noticing right away. For not asking if you want this twice. A muted curse falls from his lips instead and he carefully cradles your head. A little startled.

"Fuck- ah-" The muscles of his abdomen tense beneath your touch, startled by the sudden influx of pleasure and the wet tight hot heat of your mouth. "I don't think you need any practice- fuck-"

Omega cock tastes less bitter than alpha cock does. And Jungkook’s dick is honestly so small you can’t even choke on it properly. He doesn’t hit the back of your throat when he rocks it into your mouth. Eking pleasure from the tight seam of your lips.

He doesn’t even hit the back of your throat or engage your gag reflex. So, you wonder why your eyes start watering. One of his hands fists (albeit a little bit too sloppy to be totally gentle) in your hair, using it to keep you stationary while he fucks your mouth. Little rolls of his hips that end in cute, "ah-ah-ah" sounds leaving his lips.

Good, you're doing good. Your nose is buried in his skin. With the little tuft of hair there, Jungkook must have showered at the gym because it doesn't smell like anything. Just breathe.

You know Jungkook doesn't get stimulation to his cock often. The others much prefer to fuck his hole rather than pay attention to it and that works in your favor now because Jungkook's so sensitive. You feel his cock jerk a little, tensing as his abdomen does, flexing up against the pallet of your mouth. Especially when your tongue teases at the head. Finding the ridge of his frenulum and pressing up.

Your lungs sting but you keep your tongue flat, lapping up at the underside, keeping your mouth wet and messy and not swallowing yet. Jungkook's precum tastes a little salty, not as salty as alpha cum would taste like but still not bad. Just a little bit like sweat and a little bit like honey.

Jungkook looks down at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead his lips falling slack in pleasure. Hips twitching up, looking debauched and lovely from it already. Pride swells, even as you have to fight back the urge to gag. Quieting the revulsion in your stomach through force of will alone.

You can do this, you don't have to make a big deal over it-

Jungkook tips his head back, closing his eyes, and you're free to shudder unwatched. "Fuck- just like that- you're so good at it, fuck-" You wonder if you get this same wide-eyed subspace look when you’re sad if that’s why he doesn't notice. Your knees burn, hands tighten. One on his hips the other digging into your thigh.

You hear someone outside in the hall and before you have the chance to even think about pulling off they're opening the door. Jimin almost trips, Clearly not expecting to see you on your knees or Jungkook with his legs splayed and shirt rucked up to show his tummy.

You pop off Jungkook’s cock easily, jaw aching already (you really are out of practice) Jimin’s look is all predatory, alpha pheromones bubbling up. One second startled, the next prowling in your direction like a jungle cat.

“Ah pups, getting into trouble? Pups having a treat?”

Jungkook giggles, spreading his knees wider, fingers stroking down your cheek as you catch your breath. Wiping the spit from your lips. “We’re not done yet,” he huffs. You blink up at Jimin and the touch he drops on your head is everything. Soothing your frantic panting. You push up into it, eager for a casually loving touch.

"Wanna make some trouble with us?"

“maybe, think i'd much rather watch" He teases, jutting his chin at Jungkook and settling down next to him, leaning on his chin to watch you as you're urged back to it. You kiss Jungkook's cock again as the alpha guides him into a kiss. Settling his happy-turned-on pheromones into a thick bubble that bursts.

You lap at Jungkook’s cock head, making it messy. Watching the two of them get distracted by kissing, licking into each other’s mouths. Jungkook's hand falls from your hair in favor of cupping Jimin's thigh.

And you below them, an afterthought.

You ignore the longing in your chest and go back to sucking Jungkook off. After a minute or two, Jimin's hand returns to your head, his knuckles rub against your cheek in lazy circles.

It would feel loving any other time but not right now. Not when you're trying to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of your mind that this is all you're good for. On your knees, mouth open. Finally useful. Finally worth the bother of loving. A voice that doesn’t come from any of them but sounds suspiciously like Geumjae's occupying your thoughts.

Jimin's hands are on your head too, rubbing against your cheek. Wiping away a little bit of spit on the corner of your lips. He clearly thinks you're deep in omegaspace. Interpreting your quiet softness for that sweetness and not this devastation. there is always a moment of quiet before a disaster, an intake of breath where everyone braces for impact.

“My good little princess, making your packmate happy, look at you pup,” Jimin croons. Clearly enjoying the pretty picture that you and Jungkook paint.

If anything, it's hearing that old pet name that makes you break. You're fine until you're not.

You're just so tired.

There is wetness on your face and it’s not spit or slobber or cum just tears. Little sniffles. your first one goes un-noticed by them, but not the second or the third. Jungkook freezes. And suddenly the fingers on your cheeks aren’t pulling you closer to Jungkook’s hips but off. Tilting your face. Jimin's hands quickly push Jungkooks away.

Jimin has stoney eyes, his mouth hard and discerning, lips parting. “Pup?” Jungkook’s already got his hand on your arm bunny eyes the soft opposite to Jimin’s. Jimin effortlessly transfers you from the floor to the couch. "Oh pup."

You wipe at your tears stubbornly. “Just one second, just give me a second and then I can keep going I promise, I’m fine- I’m fine” you keep repeating it, keep saying it but you smell so sour-sad. Your pout wobbles hot tears welling up threatening to spill over renewed.

But in what world would they ever let you cry during sex without pre-negotiating? In what world would they let you cry without comforting you?

“I don’t even know why I’m crying but I can't stop-”

No sooner have the words slipped past your lips are they pulling you up from the floor and into their laps, manhandled and small. You fight it a little. but Jimin crushes you to his chest and you sag. t

Jungkook has never gotten less turned on quicker, a packmate's distress takes so much precedence over this. Pulling up his pants. His pleasure isn't even a thought in the back of his mind. You take precedent.

Jungkook thought you knew that.

He feels helpless, helpless as you scrub angrily at your mouth, he uses his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the saliva and spit from your mouth, then your tears from your cheeks. "Oh fuck- I'm so sorry- fuck I-"

And oh, you're crying into Jimin's chest now, real tears. Sobbing harder.

Jimin glances up and for a second he looks a little angry. He has every right to be angry at Jungkook for this. He's barely been here for like, a minute and a half. But the anger isn't welcome, you're too close to Jimin's scent gland, flinching when he starts to smell sour. Pulling back, so so so terrified, quivering in his lap.

"I'm sorry alpha, just give me a second and I'll get to you too-"

Now Jimin's angry for a whole new reason, angry at people he can't punish, people who are already dead. Jimin feels his anger in his hands. Struggling to stay gentle on you.

Oh fuck that.

Jimin’s fingers pinch at the back of your neck, scruffing you until your scent mellows out a little. "None of that now." He snaps, sharp shifting from concerned packmate to commanding dom effortlessly. "You'll do no such thing. You're going to stay right here until I tell you I'm done holding you."

Jimin's firmness is exactly what you need. You feel his power in his arms, crushing you, restraining you. Jungkook is not a dom, and that has never been clearer than right now. if he was than you would have never gotten into this predicament. "Can't you be good and do what Alpha asks?"

"Yes Alpha" you sob.

Jungkook looks at you guilty, eyes swimming with tears too. He's always been a sympathetic crier but he doesn’t let them spill. Even if Jimin spies them. His lower lip wobbles as he looks at you. Reaching out to hold you too and then snatching his hands back at the last second. If Jimin's touch is your remedy then Jungkook's is surely poison. “Why didn’t you-”

“I just- I just didn’t want to be bad.” You know what they’re about to say, that saying no wouldn’t have been bad but your brain is all terrified of it.

“M’sorry” Jungkook wants to say that there’s nothing you’ve got to apologize for that it’s him that should, but it’s difficult. It’s so difficult when you’re crying so hard it kinda feels like you might pass out. hyperventilating a little. He can do little more than loop his arms around Jimin's waist and trap you between the two of them, sandwiching you. Applying pressure. Holding you tight. In a way that has you instantly plummeting. Down past subspace, past omegaspace, where everything is dark and bland and nothing. Where you're nothing.

“M’sorry Koo-” He doesn’t trust his wobbly voice to speak as you sob out, “Don’t tell them, don’t tell Namjoon and Jin or Yoongi please- don't want them to worry. It’s not Koo's fault it's mine. I’m fine. m' just feeling off. I’ll be better alpha I promise.”

Luckily there is no one home. No one is home to hear any of this. Jimin has always been perilously unable to deny his girls their silly wishes. And if the idea of Namjoon or Jin knowing has you panicking anew then Jimin will take this secret to the grave.

Jimin soothes you with a happy alpha rumble, feeling exactly the opposite- wishing there was Namjoon or Jin to call for backup. This is clearly not normal crying. Jungkook surely couldn't have put you into subspace but somehow you're dropping. Leaning in to every word that graces Jimin's lips like you need the absolution he brings.

“But you’re already so good for us pup- already so good for saying no even though it was hard. Here. Lie out so we can hold you. Here.” It's what you wanted from the beginning someone close by enough to touch enough to cuddle.

Only this time it feels even less like you deserve it.

You make yourself as small as you can. Jungkook and Jimin alternate, kissing off your cheeks. Until you stop crying and fall asleep. Crying yourself back to sleep. You really were just sleep-deprived.

Jimin's got one arm around your waist, another cradling the back of your head. And only once he's absolutely sure that you are completely asleep does he hiss over the top of your head.

"Jungkook What the hell-"

"I asked, you know I asked. She said she was okay I swear-"

A whispered argument ensues, drawn out until the others come home. Their anger quieting at the sound of them, Yoongi softly calls your name. Mindful of the fact you could be sleeping.

When you wake up around dinner time you're non-verbal and pupish. There are too many people around for Jungkook to be able to pull you to the side and ask, to just talk this out. He watches you close at dinner, watches and waits for a chance to talk to you that won't come. You'll pretend you're asleep tomorrow when he wakes, just to avoid it for a little while longer.

If the others notice anything strange with you at dinner time no one broaches it. Of course, you don't speak at all. Answering their questions with shaken heads and careful nuzzles under Tae’s chin where you sit side by side with her. Your chairs pulled together so that they’re more of a bench. She smells so good- so Rosey that you press your face into her shoulder to avoid the other's eyes.

Never mind the fact that you don't smell like anything at all. Maybe you're dissociating too bad to smell like anything. So disconnected from your emotions that you can't feel them let alone smell like them.

After dinner you take an extra long in the shower so that by the time you exit the bathroom Jin has already scruffed Jungkook sleepy. He looks cute too. Pouting in his sleep, restless.

There's an extra soft nesting space carved out just beside him that he made special for you with a few pillows and his favorite nesting things. It will go unused.

That night, you don't bother trying to sleep.

~-~

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Upstairs floor plan:

Chapter playlist:

Noah Kahan - Call your mom

Coldplay - Sparks

nick cave and the bad seeds - O' children

Pine Grove- Need too

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ polymyxin b. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 9005 (i am so sorry).

“stop pressing it, you dumbass!”. you exclaim in discomfort, but shamefully not because of you.

“it’s just a bruise, some nebacetin will do it”. your boyfriend’s reaction was pissing you off more than his colleague’s grunting behind you.

“it’s not just a bruise, that was metal they were hitting you with”. your angry tone left space for your saddened one and gun-woo did not like it at all. “why did you guys agree on that anyway?!”.

“it was his idea”, they both said it simultaneously, pointing fingers at each other making you roll your eyes.

“ya, y/n”. woo-jin called you. “don’t be so mean to him, he dodged almost every punch wonsuk-subaenim threw at him”.

was that supposed to calm you down? a middle finger was pointed at the older man next to your boyfriend, gun-woo laughing.

"aish-", woojin gets up to grab a towel and you laugh a little seeing woo-jin's response. "i miss when your girlfriend wasn't a professional doctor, gunwoo-ya". gun-woo smiles shyly and you return to your job on your boyfriend's abs.

"shut up, old man". you ignored him.

"see?! she doesn't respect me!". it was your turn to laugh, ignoring him once again.

“i can’t work properly without some soothing paste, gun-woo, look at this mess”, the frustration was evident in your voice, manicured hand tracing his right side carefully which made the boy a little sad and impatient.

“it’s okay jagiya, don’t worry too much”. he turned to you after throwing a nasty looking at his best friend for not helping and held your face in his hands. he hated to admit that he could see tears forming in your eyes. “we can take a look after napping today, what do you think? you must be exhausted”.

the brutal difference between your little hand and his almost pierced skin shamefully stole his attention for a couple of minutes. without even noticing, your other hand grabbed his shorts so tightly it was starting to color your knuckles white.

worriedly, gun-woo laced his fingers with yours and made him eye-level with you, damp hair and sweaty armpits ticking his brain saying you should shower after a training session that long but his mind was nowhere near worrying about himself.

“hey, look at me”. his voice sounded lenient enough that even woo-jin got quiet on the other side of the room. "it's okay, baby, i'm gonna be fine".

“you’re the one that should be exhausted, not me”. you complain about his kindness, starry eyes becoming glossy minute after minute, making the man in front of you almost panic.

“don’t think i don’t know you worked the whole day”. he says brushing your hair behind your ear. “mr. seo said you’ve been taking your colleagues' shifts too”.

your pout only grows like a kid being caught stealing candies at a party. it was so frustrating dating a boxer when you built your whole life around saving people's lives, choosing the most efficient predicament to help someone on the verge of dying, or physically taking matters into your own hands to avoid any nasty side-effects that could change a person's life forever.

leaving patients behind to suffer wasn't an option for you, let alone postpone the pains and unattended injuries of your loved ones.

“the skin, gun-woo”, you return to ramble and point at the purple bruise on his body. “it needs bacitracin and polymyxin b otherwise it’s going to get pretty ugly. imagine the metal pierced your skin? that would be the end, god".

“baby, stop thinking about it”. he lifts your chin so you’d stop looking at the bruise. “i won and that’s what matters, right? just one more week and we’re going to the finals half, it’ll be over soon”.

a pout was formed and your lips quivered. you’ve never cried in front of gun-woo before and his reaction was pure terror. you didn’t know what got you so worked up after the match against his stupid coach and that stupid ugly machine, but you winced every time his grunts on the ring got louder and louder.

a couple of minutes into the last round, you regretted coming to see his training, he kind of forgot to tell you that it wasn't the usual gym sessions anymore, and now they were approaching a more realistic season of monthly fights coordinated by his coach.

you hated his coach from now on and that was final.

gun-woo’s eyes were round and full of stress when you cleaned the first tear that have fallen on your left cheek, averting your gaze to the table behind him and trying to distract yourself.

“people with skin infections have a higher risk of low immune responses and vice-versa”, you continue, “they can vary from mild to serious”. gun-woo grips your arm.

"baby".

"are your vaccines up to date?". you asked him and he nodded. "god, that could've turned into a fucking lockjaw or something, gun-woo". he looked at you with pity and panicked.

"i'm okay, see?". he points to his sweaty chest. "we came to the doc appointment last week and we were all good, right, hyung?". gun-woo glances at woo-jin silently asking for help.

unfortunately, gun-woo was inexperienced in this dating thing and sometimes needed the help of his dramatic hyung.

"oh, yes, yes, yes. the doctor said we were new as a baby and wonsuk-ssi even congratulated us". the boxer held his thumbs up in an exagerated sign and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "the diet has been doing good for us! stop worrying too much kid, you're sounding like his mom".

you looked at your boyfriend with glassy eyes and a red nose, turning your back to woo-jin so he couldn't see your crying expression and hopeless state. you trusted the man with your life just as gun-woo did, but something about the ugly-looking bruise on your boyfriend's side was starting to look too scary for you.

"neomycin, compression, elevation, and a bruise-healing diet can also help speed up the healing process, but that looks scary". breathing deeply, you point to the injured local and grimace. "15—20 minutes of ice packs for 3—4 days will do it unless the skin is pierced". you pause, talking to yourself. "we better get going or you'll start bleeding soon".

"baby".

"arnica gel is useless here". you take a step forward and breathe deeply again. "fuck it, i'm applying vaseline if it gets worse".

"y/n". gun-woo called you but none of that was working.

"tell me if it starts bleeding, please? do not press it or else the blood will fuck everything up".

“woah, she is a stress-talker i can see”. on the other side of the changing room, woo-jin's comment made you think he deserves death.

“aish-, will you stop?”. gun-woo hugged your head in his chest and grimaced at his best friend next to the door. he was starting to get frustrated with your state and didn't know what to do.

woo-jin also came to see the fight but it turns out he was only making things worse in this moment.

“what? i am too!”. woo-jin defends. “i get all talkative when i’m stressed, but just not all of that smarty stuff she sayin’”.

“baby, we’re going home yeah?”. gun-woo patted your shoulder, dismissing his friend and looking at you. “there you can take a closer look and then we order food, hm?”.

your boyfriend was waiting for your response when he got a change of plans.

“sounds good!”. woo-jin exclaimed and you could feel your boyfriend rolling his eyes.

you swear to god woo-jin wasn’t usually this persistent.

gun-woo ignored him, which you found a little cute in your opinion, and even laughed a little.

“okay, but you’ll have to promise me to rest tonight”. you look up at his eyes and your boyfriend smiles. it was different to have someone other than his annoying best hyung or his mother worrying about his well-being, and for sure it was the first time someone this 'brainly' took care of him.

after being alone for so long, gun-woo appreciated your nurturing nature like no other and wanted to stop the negative feelings blooming in your chest right now.

“okay, i promise”. he presses a quick kiss on your lips, which was accompanied by a little wince since he had to bend down to your height to reach your face.

"ooh, i'm sorry". you grimaced apologetically.

he smiled and turned to reach for his shirt beside you, putting it on while waiting for you to pick his things up. gun-woo had to admit that was the most intense fake match his coach had put him into. maybe you were right and he should rest tonight.

"i met him first". gun-woo can hear woo-jin's voice threatening you at the door. he only went to wave his coach goodbye and came back for a bickering woo-jin and a pouty y/n. "he was just fine when it was only me and him".

"you smell like belly pork and not in a good way". you replied.

"aish-, respect your elders, kid". woo-jin's eyes were round and menacing. "i saved his life more than once, okay? we are brothers at heart, we even share our clothes!".

"his mom loves me, she even cooked me bulgogi when we first met!". that was you on your tip-toes beckoning woo-jin to the door, a man at least seven inches taller than you. his face was frightened and his hands were defensively in front of him. "and i know exactly when to turn the grill on when we're going out!".

gun-woo's shirt was too tight for him to keep listening to your argument, and he definitely was starting to feel his right side itching when the tissue came in contact with the bruise.

"aish-, that was one time!". woo-jin defended. "and you'll never know how a boxer's spirit works because we invented it".

"liar! you said you preferred mayweather when you guys first met, and i know this because he told me himself".

"oh please i am a manny pacquiao enthusiast at heart and forever will be. and! i've also seen his d-".

"ya, would you both stop?". gun-woo interrupted his friend with a glare, warily pulling you back so you wouldn't hit his friend across his face. "i'm tired and it's getting late".

"he started". you pointed at the older man. "and i've seen more than his dick, you old".

"ya!". gun-woo looks at you affronted and woo-jin starts laughing, hiding his mouth when gun-woo pretends to hit him.

"she gots quite the temper, bro". woo-jin had to point it out. "woo, i'm excited! finally someone who matches my energy".

"you both should stop". your boyfriend tsks and you look at him smiling. "and you shouldn't listen to him". he says.

"don't say it like we're finished, boxer". you threaten woo-jin with your eyes and gun-woo has to stand between both of you so you wouldn't jump the man scaringly.

"ya, take good care of my lil bro for me, yeah?". he taps gun-woo's shoulders and they both smile at each other intensively.

"aish-, it looks like you're both exactly in love, stop that".

"yes! she's getting jealous!". woo-jin exclaims.

"hyung, you're wife is waiting for you, just go". gun-woo whines at the man and he smiles, seeming to finally remember he has his own real lover. "woah, that's true, i'm going!". woo-jin starts running down the hall and waving at both of you goodbye, finally letting your boyfriend go smiling like an idiot.

gun-woo takes his bag from your shoulders and you both start walking down the hall hand in hand. for now, you choose to silence your concerns about the big boy and just plan a peaceful ride back to your home.

"take your clothes off". your voice sounded a little too low for gun-woo's liking and he couldn't suppress a smile. glancing at you, he couldn't help but find his all-black gym set a little out of place in your all-pink bedroom. to no surprise, you perfectly fit in the pastel colors you were wearing.

"buy me a dinner first, sailor". he had to joke looking at you and taking his tight gym shirt off. instantly, he felt his side ache. something damp ran down his ribs and gun-woo cursed when he spotted blood in the rem of his shorts.

well, wasn't that just great?

looking at the bathroom mirror, he grimaced pressing the purple and red spot with his other hand.

"don't". you came from nowhere, taking his bigger hand off of him and analyzing the situation with - what your boyfriend liked to call - doctor face. a first-aid kit was on your arms the instant you glanced at the little blood accumulating on the bruise. gun-woo attentively stared at your facial expressions worried about what you were going to do.

to his surprise, only a sigh escaped your lips, and the boxer was guided to sit on the bathtub behind him, your little hand holding two of his fingers so he could follow you. it was funny how larger his frame was compared to yours in the small white bathroom.

"does it hurt a lot?". you ask worriedly wiping his skin.

"no". he wasn't necessarily lying, you both knew how pain tolerance worked for gun-woo. "just itchy". he made a face and clicked his tongue boringly.

you looked attentively at the injury while avoiding your hands on the more reddened area.

gun-woo thought your size was the perfect complement to your cute personality. when he first met you, your height was the first thing that he noticed after your soft hair. of course, accompanied by your scary father he didn't dare to even look at your way properly, but his first impression of you was something the boy held dearly in his heart.

your smart brain was when everything became blurry to the boxer. for a recently graduated student, gun-woo knew your knowledge was freshly put into place, and added to the great things he had heard about your intellect before meeting your father, he knew you were smart. but imagine the surprise when he first saw you dealing with your father's disease from up-close, admiring your basically perfect approach and ripeness to everything handed to you.

it didn't click him. how could someone so delicate-looking be so splendidly clever and loveable at the same time. he thought it was unfair the fact that you were so effortlessly sexy in his eyes. and that was a first for the boxer.

you were his first everything.

"this has to have knocked the air out of your lungs". you state while kneeling on the floor in front of him, making the boy gulp and avert his gaze suddenly embarrassed.

“hm, yeah”. he gulped even harder. “but just for a moment, though. coach didn’t want to stop”.

between his parted legs, you were insinuating things he had trouble forgetting, and with one more glance at you, he had to part his lips surprised because jesus christ, why were you tying your goddamn hair?

"i'm talking to wonsuk-subaenim about this no matter what". you looked up at him and he quickly averted his gaze. "that stupid machine has to go away".

two weeks ago. in this same bathroom. you were wearing your pink PJs late at night and he swore he had never seen your lips that glossy. the position was the same. he remembers it all too well and has to shake his head to not make things harder for him.

"jagi-".

"i'm serious, gun-woo". now was his turn to sigh. why were you pretending this didn't do anything to you? was he the creepy one? oh god, he definitely was the creepy one. 

his eyes were as round as a golf ball as he looked at your innocent expression and silently cursed his inappropriate thoughts.

gun-woo swore he wasn't like this before meeting you. he was a decent young man with respectable beliefs and a proud mother that admired and trusted him blindly.

being an athlete, gun-woo was often proclaimed for his self-control and disciplined routines. now, only a glance at your smooth skin without too much clothing was enough to have the man spiraling and sweating.

four months ago he wasn't like this.

"it's the second time this happens. remember that day in your mom's apartment? you told me you'd take more care of yourself". you continue to speak nonchalantly, rambling your frustrations to the man.

"it was a snap kick i wasn't ready for". he clears his throat hoping to not sound too raspy. "coach didn't tell me on time". you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"i am going to need an elastic bandage for this". you say more to yourself, warm hands inspecting the swelled area while your boyfriend examines your face panicked. because why were you so close to his fucking crotch? "and also a heating pad to clear up the trapped blood. will you hold it for me?". you ask him to hold the warm cloth while you searched for more things for help in the first-aid kit.

"baby, could you work on this side first?". he shyly asked, thick thighs trapping you in place to gather your attention. the boxer had to summon all the courage in the world to politely ask you this. the little yelp you let out because of the sudden touch made him blush involuntarily. "s-sorry".

his voice was so low and raspy that made you question what the hell was going on. even involuntarily, his voice always gave him in.

"oh my god, did i hurt you?". you worriedly questioned, getting up quickly so you could examine him from afar.

"no, no". he waves it off, gulping a few times so the embarrassment could pass.

it wasn't working.

"it's just that... that position". he pointed to the floor where you were previously sitting and saw exactly the moment your expression changed.

"what?". your confusion was clearly shown by your knitted brows and opened mouth.

"the position you were in... you know...". he gulped more times than he could count and could feel the fire his cheeks were on at that moment. only when his hands fled to his crotch area as if trying to hide something that your brain finally clicked.

"kim geun-woo, is that a boner? oh my god". he grimaced embarrassingly. "how could you think of things like that when your skin is basically peeling?!".

"c'mon, baby, i was trying to be discreet". he interrupts you, dying to pull your hands so he could properly apologize to you but you kept getting away. "i'm sorry, it's just that it triggered a memory of us a while ago and you tied your hair and everything and my brain stopped braining".

"you need to go to church, you pervert". his pout was something you were accustomed to, and his shy whines were a great reminder that, even if your boyfriend looked like a war trunk and sculpted by the sky itself, he still was stupidly timid when it came to things like this. "i'm joking". you laugh and he rambles.

"i'm not asking for anything! just s-stay here". he points to the floor next to his right leg, a different space from where you were before. "please".

"how long have you been like this?". a shit-earing grin was starting to adorn your face, almost forgetting about the important task you had at hand.

"i-i'm not asking anything, i swear". he repeats in despair. "i don't want you to feel uncomfortable, please".

"uncomfortable?". you approach him laughing. "baby, you're my boyfriend for a reason, you could never make me uncomfortable. that happens sometimes, no need to feel embarrassed about it".

"well, i'm just worried sometimes because of... you know what". instantly, your heart grew all soft.

"oh my god, are you talking about what i told you the other day?". your round eyes were glued to the man in front of you, hands swiftly caressing his sweaty hair while you fought the urge to kiss his forehead.

"you said you didn't have great experiences in the past and, even though i wonder sometimes, i don't feel like it would be nice to ask you which ones. so i try to just avoid situations like this so you won't think of me as just another dirty-minded creep". he explains and you kiss him.

you wanted to cry. and suck the life out of him. at the same time. because that's just how dating kim geun-woo makes you feel.

"i'd never think of you in that way, oppa". you hugged his head on your chest and he nosely laughed, finally relieved for not completely fucking things up. "i would suck you anytime, anywhere you want, you know that". you say and he looks up at you seriously.

"ya, stop teasing".

"i'm serious, i literally am in love with you and your co-".

"oh my god, you need church". he closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to take control of his own body.

"you're like the most romantic and sweetest guy a girl could ever want. and then your dick had to be big too!".

"ya!". gun-woo looked serious and you smiled at that. what he didn't notice was that he was gripping your ass unconsciously in his nervous state.

"pervert". you whispered in his ear and he immediately stopped.

"i'm going to go, woojin-hyung is not so mean to me as you are". he pretends to start getting up and you hold his arms laughing. his whiny tone was so cute you could die.

"i'm sorry, sorry! it's just so easy to mess with you". he glared at you and you smirked. "i can't let an injured man run around the streets alone, especially an uncontrolled one".

"just wait for this fucking thing to heal, y/n". you opened your mouth in shock. was that veins popping on his temples?

"language!".

"sorry, sorry, can you please do your job?".

you laughed at that and kneeled at his side, sensing that he was starting to become frustrated. you weren't sure why, but at this beginning of your sexual life, you found yourself often giving in to his wishes afraid that you are stepping into a hole with no way up.

gun-woo made you feel safe - not uncomfortable in any way. but sometimes you doubted the man was engaged in this type of thing at all because he seemed to skip any opportunity he has to rock your world daily. you trusted him and respected his slow pace.

you made the order in your head, soothing the area with some polymyxin b and nebacetin, soothing oils for the itchy feeling to go away, and vaseline to keep the wound moist. after that, you wrapped the bruise with an elastic bandage and gently pressed the heated cloth there for a few minutes.

too tempted, you sneaked a glance at your boyfriend's shorts.

"oh my god, it's huge".

for one second, you thought you were flying across the bathroom and the other you realized gun-woo had got up so fast you fell backward and hit your head on the marble floor. the pain shoots straight to your neck and ear almost instantly.

"omo!". gun-woo came to the rescue in panic, seeing what he has done. "are you alright?". he asked worried.

"it was a compliment, idiot!". you screamed at him, grimacing at the new feeling in your head. "what is wrong with you?".

"so now it's my fault?". he defended. "you're not supposed to be saying things like that when is not sexy time!".

“don’t say ‘sexy time’!”.

“you can’t keep doing this, i’m trying to be polite here!”.

"i was just teasing you!". you glanced at his stoic face and got up with his help, patting your head where it hurt most, thankful to find no blood in the area.

"it turns me on!". he confessed and for a minute you were glued to the ground. "it makes me want to take you to bed and have sexy time when you're all bratty and mouthy". his raspidly voice said and you had to grip the counter behind you so you wouldn't fall again.

what did he just tell you?

"oh". it was your turn to feel the fire on your cheeks. "i-i didn't know, i'm sorry, i thought...". you guiltily gulped staring at gun-woo's chest before looking him in the eyes.

"i'm trying to take things slow but you don't help, y/n". the sincerity in his raspy voice made you almost want to shy away. forwardness never looked so sexy in someone like it does to him. "i'm not that experienced, you know that, so i don't know what you like and don't like and that makes me scared to fuck it up. and, god, that makes me fucking insane because all i can think about is you all the time".

your sweaty palms gripped the bloodied rem of his shorts and you closed the gap between the two of you, steading your wobbly feet with gun-woo's help. the proximity made him crazy and you could see the mental battle he was going through in his head. you pecked his lips three times before whispering.

"why be scared?". your starry eyes locked him in place and gun-woo swore he couldn't move, your question making him confused. "i also want you all the time, oppa. i think of you all the time, that's why is so hard for me to see you getting hurt and i want to cry my eyes out when it happens. you drive me crazy, oppa".

"i'm sorry". you didn't know he was talking about what have happened in the ring or about what he was going to do to you because suddenly his expanded pupils made his eyes get darker and darker and you were almost crying from the anticipation of feeling him anywhere.

"i'm worried you'll get more hurt". one of your hands traveled to his injured side, never leaving his gaze. "you should... i'm sorry, gun-woo, we shouldn't-".

"you promise to tell me if anything feels wrong?". he cuts you off by arching your back and locking his eyes with you, entirely invading your personal space. "if you don't like something, do you promise to make me stop? because i swear to god i can't take it anymore, y/n". he whispered the last part on your mouth and you swore the cat got your tongue for a minute.

"uhum". you nod your head and gun-woo stayed still, arching his brows as if challenging you not to finish the sentence. "i promise, oppa". you said breathly, eyes focused on his and nowhere else.

you could feel all of gun-woo's desire pulsing deliciously beneath him, hard and voluminous, inciting your intimacy to slowly release lubricant.

you were curious. his face was cute and his body was a sin, but not all of the morals and good mannerisms in the world could hide the true desire of a person. you knew he always wanted more and you were so curious to find out what exactly his innocent brain had conjured in all these months of dating you.

gun-woo panted softly, having complete control of your body now that your toes were barely touching the ground, back arching even more while he took a deep breath next to your ear. and then he started teasing his own body as he rocked back and forth, slowly, in search of relief. and using you.

you kissed his neck, and there was when you worked him up with little kisses and shy licks, making him more and more susceptible to pleasure. gun-woo was such a selfless person that he felt scared of taking instead of giving and you wanted to prove him wrong. you wanted to prove to him that sex is good regardless of your position.

you didn't count on his strength in moments like this, but he was a boxer, after all, so you were silly to think he would take it easy on you. only one minute in and his grip was so strong on your skin that you were certain your ass was battered, squeezed, and still under the fabric of your slacks.

you knew his body all too well, you saw him naked countless times and so did he with you in the last 4 months. but never he did what he wanted with you. too shy, too aware, too scared to ask you. because that's just what gun-woo was.

selfless.

he pulled your face away from his neck so that he could bring his full lips to yours. you were kissed at the pace he dictated, in the way he wanted, fast and wild. both of your tongues collided in a hot, pleasurable slide.

you swore this wasn't the same man who had blushed at remembering you sucking him off minutes ago.

gun-woo sucked hard on your voluminous lips every time he withdrew his tongue, which you insisted on sucking in the most erotic way possible whenever he invaded your mouth. meanwhile, your hips were manipulated by the boxer's hands, which made them rise and fall slowly on his still-covered cock.

your hips were placed on the counter and you finally realized you didn't have much place to run after that. you were trapped between your sink and a 6ft tall man in front of you with sirened eyes that could kill you.

your pants gradually gained moisture, and the moan you let out when gun-woo gripped your ass with more force maddened the boxer even more, making him stop the kiss and go down with his stimulations on your neck and collarbone, seconds later capturing one of your clothed nipples between his lips and sucking it.

you bit your bottom lip and intertwined your fingers in gun-woo's hair, with his head tilted up, eyes closed and lips parting as he let out gasps of pure delight. the moan you let out when he invaded your pants with his hands and started unbuttoning your jeans and unconsciously scraping your clit was so purely erotic that even he grunted.

"sorry". his gruff voice was rushed as if he felt bad for you but at the same time didn't actually give a shit and was only trying to be polite - trying not to lose his complete sanity.

which was slowly faltering.

you pushed his head against your chest in response, undulating your hips over his hard prominence and the boxer's reaction was to feel a painful twinge in his pelvis and moan.

he raised his head, eyes even darker, then glared at you. he touched your chin with his thumb and slid it across your lips while breathing deeply.

you reached into his pants and touched him, initiating continuous movements along his entire length. gun-woo's lips parted and his brows furrowed, giving you the most obscene view you've ever seen of his face.

hot scar glowing in his sweaty skin and cutting the right side of his entire cheek. 

his body was getting hotter, your body was getting hotter, his cock getting harder and your pussy getting wetter. it was painful to repress his own urges.

"fuck". you brought his dick out of his shorts and jerked it off, hands almost trembling with so much tenseness your crotch area was feeling. getting him off made you want to cry.

gun-woo closed his eyes and gasped when you massaged his glans wet by pre-cum.

"gun-woo". you called him in such a whiny tone that made him go crazy, hiding his face on your neck and biting his lips until it draw blood to his mouth. "i c-can't". you tried to say and his ears perked up. "i'm too wet, i d-don't know what to do". it was embarrassing for you to confess something like that, but hearing gun-woo's grunts and quiet moans was making you wetter and wetter. and you weren't lying, you actually didn't know what to do because you've never been this turned on before.

what the hell?

"fuck, don't call me that, baby". he breathed on your neck and for a second you were afraid he could smell your fucking pre-cum pooling on your panties.

"stop moaning in my ear, for fuck's sake". you didn't know where the strength to say a full sentence came from suddenly but you were afraid a simple touch of the man was going to make you fucking cum.

is this how you feel when you fuck someone you love? mighty skies above, you'll have to do this every day now. 

"what do you want me to do when you won't stop squeezing my fucking dick, princess?". his voice sounded more like a growl than an actual human sound and you whined even louder in return.

you arched your body as he trailed his fingertips along your back, intensifying the contact of his thigh against your intimacy. you parted your lips and let out a high moan in response to his touches.

suddenly, you were so sensitive you could cry.

gun-woo felt your grip on his dick falter as if giving him a break. finally, the man could breathe properly again.

the next second, you felt your lips numb with such force that gun-woo sucked them, your body limp as he ultimately took control of your body.

not platonically, but literally.

"fuck, gun-... please".

like a ragdoll, he manhandled you in a position where your cunt was pressed directly on his flexed thigh, making you cry. frustratingly kicking your pants off of you, gun-woo helped you strip the rest of your clothes off before positioning you in the same place as before and teasing your bare pussy lips with his muscles.

you felt him capturing your left nipple and massaging it with his thumb, hearing your sighs between the kiss. as he stimulated the areola, he felt it getting rigid. gun-woo introduced his tongue into your mouth and played with your whiny moans.

your body was tactful to the boxer's touch, and when you felt the digits tightening around your areola, you couldn't help but dig your toes into his butt and moan muffledly, with gun-woo's tongue entering and leaving your mouth, slowly.

a trickle of saliva ran down the corner of the man's mouth. he closed his eyes to focus on the sensations. your excited pussy continued to be stimulated by his thigh, as well as your chest. he was still sucking your tongue when he felt his member pulsate painfully, brushing on your other thigh and moving a little farther to the left, bringing both of your crotches together and beginning a slow rub, undulating his hips in such a way that you stopped sucking his tongue and gasped in delight, squeezing his biceps tighter.

"gun-woo".

he kissed your lips and bit the bottom one, slowly pulling it away from your teeth.

his mouth moved down your jaw and onto your neck, where he could hear your gasps more audibly as he tongue-kissed the warm, milky skin of your throat, careful to leave pretty marks in his travel. his fingers were sadly no longer playing with your nipples, now they were on your bent thigh, holding it firmly as he rubbed himself shamelessly against your body.

gun-woo was using you to get off.

sensing what your boyfriend was finally doing, you cocked your head and with heavy, fluttering eyelids, watched your boyfriend's unholy face in pure delight. parted lips, messy hair, and one of your legs wrapped around him.

you watched, full of lust, as the boxer rubbed himself on you. kissing your neck ardently to the point of trembling eyes.

you already felt your opening releasing natural lubrication and wondered why haven't this man done this to you before.

"i can't anymore, gun-woo. p-please".

"please? do you need something, princess?". he spoke softly but with full of warning.

"fuck... you. need you".

"yeah right, you do". his comment was so lowered that you wondered if you had imagined it for a second. "need you too, princess, don't worry".

in a swift moment, your torso was thrown directly in his chest, your arms circling his neck for purchase while gun-woo hugged your body and finally walked towards your bedroom. when you said you were a ragdoll was because you felt like one, being tossed in the bed without an ounce of strength in your limbs and you weren't even fucked yet.

he then grabbed your waist again and kissed you, meanwhile, you took his shorts off completely, admiring the messy state he made with his liquids. gun-woo grabbed your ass once again and squeezed them, sliding his fingers through the partition between them and smearing all over your ass with his own lubrication.

oh my god. this man was sick.

"gun-woo". you called him whiny.

he climbed off the bed and pulled you to the edge simultaneously, manhandling your body as he wished. when both of your feet hit the floor, he tore his lips from yours and looked at you.

"do you mind?". for a second, his old innocent eyes shined in the pink light your bedroom had on. sincerely, your mind was too sex-hazed to even process he was talking to you in the first place, so you just tried to focus on his face and smile. "turning around?". he motioned with his fingers a cute circle and your eyes rounded dangerously.

"back?". you pointed to the bed and then at you, voice hoarse from all the torturous moaning.

"uhum". his smile was so pure you wanted to punch him in the face, nodding his head excitingly as if he wasn't asking you to expose your cunt in the air for him.

"a-all f-fours?". you asked him again, surprised and feeling your brain all fluffy inside.

"if you don't want, that's okay". for a moment, you felt his uncommon confidence falter and you were quick to reassure him.

"no, i want to". your doe eyes held all the stars in the sky, gun-woo was sure of it.

"ok". he smiled like a kid.

"ok?". you were too stunned to form coherent sentences.

"ok?". he asked confused, waiting for you to turn around with expectant eyes and arched brows.

"ok". you nodded your head finally.

again, he grabbed your waist, pressing his pelvis to your ass as you turned around. gun-woo started attacking your nape with chaste kisses that made their way to your neck, where he left hickeys and bites. you cocked your head to the side, leaving your neck completely free for the man to make as many purple and red marks as he wanted.

quickly, gun-woo left you to search for his shorts on the floor. when he came back, he surprisingly handed the condom to you, a silent request for you to put it on him which almost made you choke.

upon receiving it, you opened the package and took your hands back, touching the boxer's length. simultaneously, gun-woo slid his hands along your curves and massaged your breasts, making you fail on the first try of putting the condom on. a low moan escaped your mouth, but you didn't stop concentrating on holding your boyfriend's cock and positioning the condom on the glans, then holding the tip and unrolling it completely to the base.

you positioned the glans between your heat and thrust it into yourself, having to bite your lower lip to contain your murmurs due to the burning sensation. gun-woo hugged your body and let himself slide in slowly, with his forehead pressed against your shoulder. you opened your mouth and a breathless groan left your mouth painfully.

"gunw-".

gun-woo's eyes opened slowly, just to enjoy the view from below, where his cock slowly came out of your hole, and seconds later, it went back inside a little faster.

"fuuck". his voice was gruff, head empty, and only the feeling of your walls gripping his member inside of you running through his mind. "fuck, princess”.

you threw your head up and brought your right hand back, tangling your fingers in his hair. your brows shaped like your entire face in a set of pained and pleasurable expressions. you felt the heat every time gun-woo entered and exited, but it also felt wonderfully good to feel his cock opening you.

"fuck you". you couldn't help but curse, vaginal canal struggling to keep his member inside as he slide out of you every time. "gun-woo, please, i c-can't". you felt your cheeks wet, confirming to both of you that you were crying over a man's cock.

gladly.

"breathe for me, princess, fuck". he stopped inside you, letting you accommodate him calmly. your moan when he pinched your clit was feral.

"big, big, big". was all you could say and the boxer started to want to laugh.

"hey, princess, you're hearing me?". you breathed deeply. “c’mon, don’t be so cock-dumbed already”.

“fuck you”. was all you could say, twitching around him like crazy.

"we can't stop if it's not what you like-".

"i swear to god, i'm going to kill you. don't stop!". you screamed. painfully.

"hey, you're too tight, jagiya. you need to breathe for me first, yeah?". gun-woo himself was struggling to contain his urge to fuck you relentlessly, but he wanted you to enjoy this as well. "fuck, you're squeezing the fuck out of me, prin-".

"i c-cant. too fucking stretched, gun-woo".

"we've done this before baby, remember? i know you can, now relax for me. i'm feeling a bump on your stomach here". he pressed the bulge and you keened, juices leaking everywhere between your legs.

“i’m so wet”. you didn’t know who you were talking to anymore if it was to him or yourself.

again, you were crying and involuntarily relaxed your lower half, turning limp in your boyfriend's arms and arching your back more making him hit a new angle.

"shit-". you moaned and he felt his member twitch because of the contraction. "that's it, that's it, good girl". he breathed deeply when he could move again, relieved to have some breathing space.

without warning, gun-woo penetrated you fast and rough, making your small body propel forward, and the only thing that kept you from falling was his firm hands on your waist.

a moan escaped your lips and the rest of them died on your throat when your eyes rolled back and gun-woo hit a new angle.

the boxer smirked. gun-woo knew perfectly well how to tease you.

he then squeezed your hips and wrapped his digits in your hair. for the next moment, he withdrew from inside you and came back again, fast and hard, eliciting moans from your drooling mouth. as much as your eager moans were constant, gun-woo continued to fuck you mercilessly, without chastity, inserting himself completely without stopping. the erotic noise of your bodies colliding became frequent, echoing throughout the room and almost moving your bed from its place multiple times.

the moans became louder and more constant, and if it weren't for the firm touch of gun-woo's hands in your hair and hips, you would certainly collapse on the mattress. a trickle of lubricant ran down between your legs, and the excess made gun-woo's cock penetrate more easily into you.

you let out a high-pitched moan, the loudest yet.

gun-woo smiled happily, almost proudly, starting to thrust in the same place, which generated a sequence of loud and tearful moans coming from you.

"fuck". he cursed once, twice, and countless times with how good your pussy felt. gun-woo was losing his mind with no restraints and overthinking.

you moaning his name was beautiful, too wonderful not to be heard and appreciated, and gun-woo wished you would call his name louder and louder so everyone would know you were his.

as much as he was yours.

"princess, you there?". he worriedly asked, sensing your lack of words and quiet whines while he fucked you.

"hmm". you couldn't speak, that was on period. it didn't matter how much you tried, your eyes were too rolled back in your head for you to make sense.

and gun-woo being the wonderful boyfriend that he was, started kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck, silently saying to you that it was okay to feel so good you turned completely non-verbal.

you bit your bottom lip and, glancing over your shoulder at the worried boxer, you threw your hips back and forward, repeating the same movement signaling you were okay.

gun-woo, on the other hand, had to tightly close his eyes and suppress a growl at your hips undulating while he was still inside. the veins on his neck, arms, and hand were surely evident while he hold his breath.

somehow, you sped up your movements, and little by little, the noise of both of your bodies colliding became louder, more frequent, hotter. you whimpered when gun-woo's glans hit your sensitive spot again, and it didn't take long for your orgasm to threaten to come.

you stopped bouncing and rolled slowly, contracting, the boxer's entire cock inside you.

"i'm cumming". you exclaimed. "can i cum? fuck, gun-woo".

he then grabbed your hair again and put the side of your face against the mattress, and in that position, you were able to see the reflection of your bodies in the wardrobe mirror. and when you thought that your pleasure could not increase, the opposite was proved when you watched gun-woo's hips investing quickly in yourself, while his face was a mixture of pleasure and lust.

your small doe eyes rolled back and your vision became more blurred, your fingers dug hard into the mattress, pulling it and squeezing it between your hands. your eyes water and you mentally asked him not to stop.

"so good". gun-woo grunted in your ear and that was your last thread, squirting everywhere your pussy reached and making a mess of gun-woo's legs. the heat you felt on your cheeks was so intense you started to feel embarrassed.

panting for air, your body couldn’t stop twitching and your muscles couldn’t stop contracting around gun-woo’s member. for a moment, your brain was only white and you were certain you were crying for fuck’s sake.

"jesus christ, what was that?". the man was marveled and lust-hazed, too surprised to notice you were almost passing out.

"baby, please". you whispered weakly, gun-woo slowing down his movements and reaching for your face.

"princess?". his tone was worried for a minute too long. "are you good?".

"squirt". you try to say, feeling your brain too hazed to work properly. "i just s-squirted".

"oh", gun-woo's face was too innocent for someone who had his cock deep inside you, in your opinion, and you hated it. "you gripped me so tight, i thought i was dying". he laughed meaningly and you glanced back at him through the mirror with horror. how could he react like that?

the next thing you know your eyes were as round as your mouth and your lungs were burning with the lack of air. you moaned uncoordinated, finding it hard to distinguish when your pussy stopped spasming and gave him room to move again.

"what do you think you're doing, gun-woo-!?". your scream was cut short by the man thrusting into you again. with full force.

your legs trembled with pleasure, and then they failed to hold themselves together. seeing that you would collapse on the bed, he laid down on top of you and held both of your closed fists, accelerating the penetration even more, which, due to the position, made you tighter.

your clit pressed against the mattress caused friction that only added to the maximum overstimulation. gun-woo took your hands to your pussy lips and made you pull the bands one on each side.

"keep it open for me please, princess?". he asked menacingly, another orgasm starting to build inside you.

"gun-woo!". this man was sick.

"cum with me this time, yeah, baby?". he whispered in your ear, face turned to your reflection in the mirror and staring right back at your eyes.

"i'm gonna cum-". you affirmed.

"c'mon baby, just a sec, will ya?".

you closed your eyes and tried to hold back, however, gun-woo continued to fuck you deliciously. couldn't hold it anymore. that was final. having your clit constantly hit and neck kissed was too much to delay your orgasm any longer.

the overstimulation was killing you.

"gun-woo, i can't".

"i'm cumming, baby". he grunted out of breath. "cum with me, princess".

and as if it were magic words, you reached your orgasm right when he closed his mouth, followed by a slick and louder moan, making your whole body tremble with the wonderful spasms. breathing was frantic, and his hands were lying at your sides. gun-woo was still fucking in search of his own orgasm.

you contracted around him, squeezing him and, consequently, increasing his pleasure, and that was the climax for the boxer, who finally came deliciously inside the condom.

he was in heaven. searching for something to hold his sanity onto.

his nonexisted sanity.

you kissed him, in an attempt to distract both of you from the thoughtless state of mind. gun-woo turned your body with one hand and collapsed on top of you just after. your yelp was soundless to the boxer, head too pleasured for not stuffing his nose on your hair and trying to compose his fucking mind.

"you there?", gun-woo's voice was muffled by your skin, body too subtle under his.

"everything burns". you admitted in a whisper, throat flaming for moaning so loud.

"i think your neighbor will have complaints tomorrow". the man on top of you smirked and nosely laughed.

"don’t laugh, it’s your fault. you're crashing me, oppa". you whined trying to pull him off of you but not being able to move one muscle.

"omo, 'm sorry". he got off of you and smiled looking at you, almost shy to see your flushed face.

you smiled weakly in return and gun-woo took the condom off of him, making a knot and throwing it on the floor, next to the bed, to throw it away later. he settled on top of your body again and leaned on his forearms, and after facing you and smiling tenderly at your disorientated state, he kissed you tenderly.

you cupped his face and returned the kiss, calm but as delicious as any other one you both had. your hands were shaking while holding his chin and the man seemed to notice. his breathing was still labored, and because of that, he stopped the kiss but continued with both of your foreheads together, noses brushing against each other and lips open.

the two of you were sweaty, you were tired.

"you were amazing, oppa". your raspy voice came in contact with his ears and gun-woo tried to hide his burning cheeks on your neck again, you stop him and stared right back into his eyes.

"really?”. you giggled and he laughed at your hazy gaze. he then started sliding the digits of his right hand by your waist. "you're the one to blame".

"i love you". gun-woo smiled widely and you followed suit, without much exaggeration.

gun-woo tilted his head down and stared at your face; rosy cheeks, closed eyes and chest rising and falling with some frequency. he smiled small and kissed your slightly sweaty forehead, starting to stroke your damp soft hair.

"thank you, princess. i love you too". he whispered drowsily. "can't believe you squirted yet".

"stop". it was your turn to feel shy.

"it was hot".

"you sex beast. i am afraid of not being capable to get up to change your bandage". gun-woo almost choked.

oh god. the bruise.

"a-ah y-yes, totally". he looked down on his side and made a face at the kneaded band-aid.

you could not see that now.

"it's okay, though. i'm okay".

"are you?", your hazy doe eyes glanced at his sirened ones and gun-woo was quick to nod his head dramatically. "'kay". you replied tiredly, eyes almost closing. "can i take a nap, oppa?".

"of course, babygirl". the boxer keened, worried about your dimmed state and praying that he'd have the time to fix your bandage before you woke up.

his high pain tolerance scared him sometimes too, but gun-woo was sure that when the adrenaline left his body, he would feel the consequences of his actions the next day.

"want to shower with me first?". he asked before seeing your eyes completely closed.

"'m tired". you murmured.

"i'll be quick, okay? you don't have to do nothing, we can use the tub", gun-woo suggests.

you surprisingly laughed, and your eyes reduced to two tiny lines. it was so admiring the unique beauty of your joy that, spontaneously, your boyfriend also smiled. it was infectious and refreshing to see your smile so huge and genuine.

"are you suggesting that you shower me like a kid, sailor?". your voice was filled with happiness and the man next to you was quick to reply.

"no, no, no, that's creepy". his brows were arched and his eyes round, you wanted to laugh because of his pure reaction. "i just wanted you to rest... to not be tired and sticky".

"okay, baby. you can take care of me".

gun-woo opened a huge smile and left your body on the bed so he could turn on the bathtub and quickly come back to you.

staring at you sprawled in your element, kim geun-woo realized that he had never been more happy in his entire life than right now.

and he didn't give a fuck if his right side was completely numb when he had you.

don't normalize arguing with your boyfriend's best friend while he is injured and horny ! that might have consequences... hope you guys enjoyed and i'm so sorry for any misspelling 🥺 (this is how sex with kim geun-woo post ep.6 would be and you cannot prove me otherwise)

[livingformintyoongi]

To Get To You | Min Yoongi

Request: Hii, i just found your blog and saw that you are accepting requests, could i ask for a fic where the maknaes set you up with yoongi? Kind like frenemies to lovers? Like you and yoongi are constantly bickering and the rest of the guys cannot take it anymore of how much chemistry you guys have. Rom/com kind of vibe. Wouldn't mind if it ends up having some smut 😜 Thanks!!!

a/n: I am very sorry for the delay 😫, I was very busy, I hope it was as you had imagined.

Jin let out a long and heavy sigh, Namjoon rolled his eyes discreetly, the younger members of the group were laughing quietly together with Hoseok, and you, well, you were the cause of those expressions that became so common every time you came to pay them a visit and Yoongi was there.

You were Hoseok's best friend since you were 10 years old, you were there for him through thick and thin, so it was almost impossible for you not to become close to his other group mates, except for Yoongi of course. It's not that you hated him, and you didn't think he hated you either, it's just that… there was something about him that made you bring out the worst in yourself, and vice versa.

You still remember the first time you met him. It was the same day of BTS's debut, you had bought the most expensive ticket, all to support your beloved Hobi. You had managed to sneak backstage so you could give your friend some water, you could feel his nervousness from your seat. However, the rest of the members still didn't know you, which is why, when Yoongi saw you smuggling in too suspiciously and placing a bottle of water in his best friend's bag, he almost kicked you out.

The two of you started arguing, you even went so far as to roll up your shirt sleeves, ready to bring out your brawling side. Luckily for you, Hoseok arrived just then, and it didn't take him long to hug you tightly and thank you for coming. Yoongi still remembered your smirk of superiority and your middle finger rising in his direction.

"Let go" you growled under your breath, holding up a piece of meat with your chopsticks, "I took it first."

"My chopsticks are under yours, it was me who took it first" Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed, his body leaned towards you, both of you were sitting together at Hobi's insistence.

"Liar!" this time you leaned towards him, there was barely an inch of separation between your noses. Perhaps if you hadn't been so busy thinking about food, you might have noticed the blush on Yoongi's cheeks and his slight tremble on his lips. "You should be a gentleman and give it to me."

"Guys," Jimin said mockingly, resting his chin on both hands. Jungkook and Taehyung were trying to stuff their mouths with food so they wouldn't say something out of place, last time they spent over half an hour listening to both of them yelling at you that you guys definitely had nothing in common and would never, not even in the most horrible dreams they had, be in a relationship. "Why don't you just break it in half? There's no need to argue over a piece of meat."

"It's not just any piece of meat, it's the piece of meat" this time you turned to Jimin, pointing at it with the tip of your index finger, "I studied it before I grabbed it, there's almost no fat on it, and it's at its best doneness, plus it's perfectly seasoned. It's just a matter of looking at it to know it will be delicious."

"Sorry I was late, it was rush hour and everything was packed, barely made it out of the subway."

The eight of them turned around at the same time, meeting the big smile of Soyeon, an old friend of Jungkook's and Jimin's current partner. You almost choked on your own saliva at the sight of her.

You two got along very well, you had even gone out on a few occasions just the two of you. Soyeon was an extremely beautiful and feminine girl, she fit in too well with Jimin. She was quite outgoing and caring, and would always talk to you to see how you were doing or if you needed help at your restaurant. Yes, she could have been an amazing friend if it weren't for the fact that she had the same bad habit as Jimin.

"Oh, don't tell me," she covered her mouth with her hand, staring at you. A shiver ran down your spine. You could see the evil behind his eyes, "Were you and Yoongi planning to feed each other? I never thought you would accept your love for each other so soon, I would give you at least another three months."

"I was giving them until about two more," Jimin said with a chuckle, getting up from his chair to help Soyeon sit down.

"I wasn't feeding him!" you hurried to say, dropping the chopsticks and looking at the wall, completely avoiding Yoongi could see how embarrassed you were. This is why you hated being in the same room as these two.

"It's okay, sorry, sorry" Soyeon shared a sympathetic look with Yoongi, who took the opportunity to grab the piece of meat that had caused such a fuss.

The topic of conversation quickly changed thanks to the help of Jimin's girlfriend. She diverted attention to some dramas she had been having at her job and, to your surprise, it worked quite well. Sometimes you were impressed by how curious and gossipy these guys could be.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see how a piece of meat covered with a lettuce leaf stood on your plate. You couldn't help but smile, mentally repeating to yourself that, ultimately, that smile wasn't because of Yoongi's gesture, but because of the fact that you won the fight.

"Are you sure you're okay?" shouted Soyeon close to your ear. The music in the bar was too loud and you could barely hear your own thoughts. The pain in your head didn't help much either, how many drinks had you had?

"I think so" you tried to shout back, but a loud retch interrupted you.

You covered your mouth and ran as fast as you could to the bathroom on the second floor, leaving Soyeon behind.

Right after you disappeared down the stairs, Jimin appeared next to Yoongi, both of them were trying to communicate loudly between drunken laughter and clumsy steps. Suddenly, an idea lit up Soyeon's head and, mentally apologizing to you -along with a plea for you not to kill her when you had self-awareness- she approached the boys.

"Yoongi! Jimin!" She raised her hand to let them both know where she was, there were a lot of people among the three of them.

"Yeon?" muttered Jimin, pulling Yoongi so he could hear her better, "What happened?"

"It's Y/N" she shouted, pointing at the staircase, "Looks like she drank too much and feels really bad."

Both Jimin and Soyeon smiled as they noticed Yoongi's worried grimace, who was too distracted watching the ladder to notice their complicit looks.

"I meant to go help her, but she's a lot taller than me, and I don't think I can take-" Soyeon interrupted herself as she noticed Yoongi handing her glass to Jimin and hurrying past the people to climb up the stairs, "Wow, that was faster than I thought."

Jimin nodded in agreement, smiling as he watched his Hyung run after you. Despite all the teasing and teasing he and the guys were giving Yoongi, everyone knew that you made him happy, in a very strange way, and he couldn't help but get excited to see how he cared about you.

You leaned your head against the bathroom wall, flushing the toilet awkwardly. You were disgusted by the sight of your own vomit. You closed your eyes, your whole body was weighing you down and all that was going through your head was to take a good drink of water and lie on your bed next to your cat.

"Y/N?" You opened your eyes again, about to insult whoever interrupted your beautiful silence. It was Yoongi, though he looked much more worried than usual, "God, you look awful" he muttered, coming over to you and taking your arms carefully so he could lift you up. He paled almost instantly as he saw you start to retch.

He hurried to carry you to the toilet, resting your weight on it. He averted his gaze the moment you expelled all the alcohol you had drunk.

Despite being too out of yourself, you could swear Yoongi's cold hands were holding your hair and caressing your back gently. Yes, you were definitely too drunk.

"Gross" you whispered, flushing again, letting Yoongi help you up, "Sorry, did you want to use the bathroom?"

Yoongi ignored your question, slipping one of his arms behind your back and the other behind your knees, carrying you like a princess. You couldn't help but laugh as you felt him lift you up.

"Yoongi-ah is very strong, she can carry me even when she's drunk" you joked, letting your head fall back, watching as the rest of the guests danced energetically. Before closing your eyes and falling into the arms of Morpheus, you watched as Soyeon and Jimin gave you both a thumbs up and dismissed them with a big smile, but you didn't have time to think about that, as soon as Yoongi opened the door, you were completely unconscious.

You wrinkled your nose as you smelled a familiar scent, but almost instantly groaned in pain. You could feel a kind of unbearable hammering in your head, besides the burning in your throat and the heaviness in your eyes, right now even breathing hurt.

"I'll never drink again in my life" you growled in a raspy voice, letting your arm fall over your eyes.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you."

You sat up almost automatically in bed, regretting it immediately. Grimacing, you grabbed your head with both hands, cringing and throwing yourself sideways onto the bed again. It was then that you realized who the scent was that you had smelled when you woke up. It was the same perfume Yoongi wore.

"Be careful, you drank too much yesterday, you might get a headache if you move so abruptly" Yoongi murmured calmly, setting down a tray in front of you.

"No shit, genius" you groaned sarcastically, sitting down again, but this time more slowly.

You took the opportunity to look around Yoongi's room. You had never been in his house, much less his room. It was quite nice, and yes, it had the name Yoongi on every corner of it. If your throat hadn't been sore, you probably would have laughed.

"Here," he held out a pill and a glass of water, his gaze fixed on you.

"W-what is it?" you looked at his hands and what he held between them. You were aware that they were probably for a hangover, but you still found it hard to believe. He was the first guy to offer you such kind treatment after drinking half a bar, this obviating Hobi, of course.

"I thought you might have a pretty nasty hangover" he sighed, taking your hands and setting the things down on them, "Drink them with plenty of water, you might get a sore throat if you don't." He rubbed his hands on the jeans he was wearing. For a second you thought he was nervous. "Make yourself at home, you can use the shower if you want, I also have change of clothes that Hobi brought in the morning, if you want to dress in something more comfortable."

"Thank you" you murmured, watching him leave the room. For the first time since meeting him you felt nervous around him.

You shook your head at such a thought. It was Yoongi, fucking Min Yoongi, who you yelled at, pushed and shoved and picked on almost daily, to think of him like that was… impossible.

You repeated that to yourself as you took the pill he had brought you, as you ate the breakfast he had bothered to bring to your bed, as you guiltily made his bed for having stolen it from him last night, as you showered, as you dressed, even as you walked towards him with your party bag in one hand and clothes in the other.

"Sorry for the inconvenience" you whispered crestfallen. You didn't even quite remember how you got here, you thought he probably paid your cab fare and had to carry you, that idea made your stomach tingle and you definitely didn't want to dig into it.

"Don't worry, are you feeling better?" Yoongi turned to you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"What do you care?" you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn't like this overly friendly side of him. You pulled your clothes closer to your chest, pressing them against it in a failed attempt to control your heartbeat. You cleared your throat, feeling embarrassed for acting this way after he had taken care of you in the early morning, "Thanks for the help, even though I didn't ask for it" you stood for a few moments in silence, both of you sharing glances. Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the couch in your living room, his elbow was resting on the arm of the couch, and in turn his chin was resting on his hand. He was staring at you, his face just as calm as ever.

"Y/N" he mumbled, narrowing his eyes, "don't you remember anything that happened last night?"

"What are you talking about?" you cocked your head to the side, furrowing your eyebrows. You tried to remember something, but beyond the vomit and waking up in Yoongi's bed, your memory was empty, "Did I throw up your clothes?" a grimace of horror came across your face, if you had, you were ready to dig a hole under the ground and bury yourself in it.

Yoongi just shook his head, turning his eyes back to his TV, "Forget it, it's nothing" he picked up the remote control and brought it close to his mouth, resting it lightly against his lips.

You turned away almost immediately as soon as you realized how much you were looking at her mouth.

"Whatever, I'm leaving now" you shouted from the doorway, getting out as fast as your legs would let you. You didn't know what was happening to you, but you didn't like it at all.

"Jiwon, I'm serious, this is serious" you folded your arms, watching as Jungkook laughed out loud while Jiwon tied her hair in a high ponytail.

"Y/N, I've already told you several times, not just because your heart is racing you will go into cardiac arrest" Jiwon took control of Jungkook's hands and looked at him with annoyance, "And you stop laughing, or else you'll sleep in one of your Hyung's house."

"Sorry, sorry," Jungkook said with laughter, hugging Jiwon and kissing her right cheek, "I promise I'll show you mercy in this match."

"Stop flirting!" you threw yourself on the bed behind them, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly.

As the sound of the game timer began to play, Jiwon's slightly gravelly voice echoed in the room.

"Okay, okay, tell me what you have, I don't have anything like to give you a check up, but I could try to give you a pre-diagnosis" she murmured concentrating on the screen.

"It all started about two weeks ago, after I woke up in Yoongi's house" you mumbled, trying to remember everything that happened.

"Wait, why were you at Yoongi's house?" Jungkook, knowing that his girlfriend would look at him after asking that question, shrugged, completely oblivious to the situation. It didn't matter to him as much as beating her at the game.

"Oh, it's just that I'd had too much to drink that night, and since he didn't know my address, he let me stay at his place, but that's not the point" you sighed, settling back to look at your friend's blonde hair, "Ever since that day I've been having problems."

"What kind? Maybe it was because of how much you drank."

"I don't know. Every time I remember about that night my stomach feels like it's squishing or something" you wrinkled your nose, shaking your head at how horrible it made you feel to remember that feeling, "My heart also gets too fast, like it's racing, and sometimes I even stop breathing for a few seconds" you closed your eyes, remembering the smile Yoongi had given you just before you left, how her lips touched the tip of the remote control. "My body temperature suddenly changes, even my face turns red from the heat I feel."

You hadn't realized until then that they had both stopped playing and were looking at you in surprise. You looked at them in confusion, the thought that it was indeed something serious made your stomach churn.

"Y/N" Jungkook muttered, turning completely around and resting his hands on the bed, "do you have feelings for Yoongi?"

You remained silent, not because you didn't want to answer, but because you were surprised that he thought that. Of course you didn't like him, it was the opposite, you hated him, that's why you always fought, for that very reason you had learned the things he likes and the things he hates, to annoy him back, just like he did with you.

"Of course she's in love with him, we all knew that," Jiwon gently tapped Jungkook's shoulder, turning to look at you, "Right?"

"I don't… he's not…" you swallowed saliva, trying to find the right words, but you couldn't, a lump in your throat kept you from saying you didn't like him, you didn't even feel attraction for him, did you? Because it was always about you hating each other, about others claiming how you probably liked each other, just that.

"Y/N?" Jiwon walked over to you, sitting down next to you and smiling sympathetically as she noticed how complicated you were with the question, "I think you just answered yourself."

"But I haven't said anything yet" you mumbled, looking at Jiwon nervously. You didn't want to accept what she was saying.

"Look" she rested one of his hands on your lower back, her smile still there, "everything you mentioned is what one feels when they're attracted to someone and, if we're being honest, you and Yoongi usually have quite a bit of chemistry in your so-called fights."

"He doesn't feel the same way about me" you finished saying, you knew that with that comment it could be understood that your answer to Jungkook's question was a yes, but that wasn't what you were worried about, what would you do if these two were right? How would you tell Hobi that you hooked up with his best friend? What would you do if you let it slip that you like him and you end up making Yoongi and consequently everyone else uncomfortable?

"There's only one way to find out," Jiwon said with a chuckle, nudging you on the arm, "you know how the saying goes, who doesn't risk, doesn't win."

"And in case he turn you down, you can come with us" Jungkook came towards you from behind, hugging you tightly. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of his buck teeth.

"Thanks, guys" you murmured, hugging you both.

"Don't even think it'll be free, you'll have to cook us a delicious lunch for a week."

You laughed as you felt Jungkook whimper at the blow Jiwon had given him. You couldn't help but wonder if you and Yoongi could ever have a relationship like theirs.

You checked yourself in the mirror for the fifth time that night. It had been two months since your conversation with Jiwon, two months in which you paid attention to Yoongi's attitude towards you, in which you remembered the moments you were together-which were many more than you thought. You took that time to think about your feelings, organize your ideas and plan how you would bring him to your restaurant.

It was in those months that you realized how kind he had always been to you. Yes, it was true that you were insulting and annoyed most of the time, however, in almost all of those memories you had of him, he acted much nicer than you felt at the time.

One of those times was here. On the opening day of the restaurant the guys had a live performance, they were at their best, it was impossible to change the date. That day you cried alone in the bathroom of the venue because you couldn't have your best friends here to celebrate with you. It was that same night, some time after you finished all the comfort of the bathroom by blowing your nose and wiping your face, that Yoongi appeared covered up to his ears with a big bouquet of flowers and many gift bags that he left on one of the tables.

You remembered how he approached you and stretched the bouquet to you while mumbling a "You look awful, you're lucky no one else came", you cried even harder when you heard him say that, still, you hugged him tightly, sobbing as you felt him pat your back and recommended you to make friends who had more free time so they could celebrate with you. You also remembered how he agreed to eat from the dinner you had made for them, and you accepted the gifts-which he had told you were part of the rest of the members. Secretly, you were thankful that he had had the surgery just that week, because it was the first time you were alone together, it was the first time you really started to feel something for him.

"Ah, it's been so long since I'm been here."

You almost had a heart attack when you heard Yoongi's voice coming from the entrance. You looked at yourself one last time, you weren't super dressed up, but you were formal enough to understand that you meant business. Besides, those black elephant foot pants looked too good on you.

"Yeah, I seem to remember I had banned you" you joked, fiddling with the button on your shirt sleeve, "I thought you'd be later."

"You told me it was something important" you mumbled, "how could I keep you waiting?"

You don't know how you managed to hold back the urge to thump your chest and throw yourself on the floor, but you were glad you had such good willpower.

"Yes," you nodded, wiping the sweat from your hands on your pants. You didn't know how to bring up the subject.

"Do you like someone?" Yoongi pulled out one of the chairs and sat in it, his gaze fixed on you, on your every move.

You hated his ability to be so calm, though of course, he wasn't the one who was going to propose. "How did you know?" you asked, moving closer to him.

"Soyeon once told me that women tend to dress up more when they like someone" he whispered. The atmosphere was calm and quiet enough that you could hear him without fuss, "and it's the first time I've seen you so well groomed."

You almost hit him when you heard it. You had only tied your hair back.

"Why do you want to tell me? I thought we were on bad terms, or am I wrong?"

"No," you said firmly, taking a step closer to him. Your heart felt like it was going to burst, you hated not being able to have control over him, "Yes I do" you swallowed spit, looking down at him from above. You could tell his eyes were darkening slightly.

"Then what did you call me for?" he sighed, trying to get up, but being immediately stopped by you.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down hard, forcing him to stay and listen to you.

For the first time in the night you could notice how his calm countenance transformed into one full of surprise. You squealed inwardly as you saw his pale cheeks tinge pink.

"I called you just because I loathe you" you murmured, inwardly praying he didn't notice the tremble on your lips, "I always did, from the beginning. I hate how you always listened to every single thing I said, how you learned my likes and dislikes and the things I detested; how every time we all went out together you remembered those things and left me the parts I liked the most; I hate how you came to my graduation together with Hobi with the excuse that you didn't want to leave him alone with someone like me; I hate how whenever I felt lonely you noticed and came after me" you swallowed spit, feeling your eyes burn as you watched Yoongi's face turn redder and redder. "But most of all, I hate how you made me hate you so much to the point of making me fall for you."

You both fell silent, you could tell how Yoongi was intending to speak, but it seemed like the words wouldn't come out on their own.

You remembered that day with Jungkook and Jiwon, you had reacted exactly the same.

"You can break up if it bothers you" you said with a trembling voice, grabbing Yoongi's shirt and pulling him towards you, bringing his lips together with yours. You didn't intend for it to be long, you just wanted him to know that you meant it, that you were serious.

It was only for a few seconds, you pulled away from him, looking into his dark eyes. You took a breath and, with the confidence you still had inside you, you told him, "You didn't pull me away."

"You asked me to if it bothered me" he murmured, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulling you close enough to kiss you back.

This one was much longer and more passionate, you even got to feel your breath catch and your legs start to tremble. Luckily, Yoongi seemed to notice that and pulled you to him so he could sit you on his lap.

"Y/N" he whispered against your lips, his gaze swapping between your mouth and your eyes, "I like you too."

A huge warmth greeted your heart as you heard his statement accompanied by a huge, bright smile.

"Yes" you nodded vigorously, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hiding your face in his neck.

You never thought you would feel so comfortable next to him, but you definitely didn't regret anything.

Masterlist.

[random-crap-i-like]

I never liked Jin during the flashbacks...

I get that Jin is like a lot of us; too scared to stand up against his friends when they do wrong, or against bullying (i.e. bystander effect). But there is something else about Jin, something insidious.

I hated how folks treated Jin as some sort of prince charming just because he was showing a basic level of human kindness. Completely ignoring how he does not stand up for Non and tell his so-called friends to STOP the bullying. And no, that half-hearted way he has in telling them to lay off doesn't count.

But what makes Jin insidious is how he makes an effort to convince Non to "stay" with the group. Not because he wants them all to be friends and to keep the peace, but because of complete selfishness.

And possessiveness.

Jin is so selfish and possessive, that he wants Non to be with him, literally with him, despite it meaning that Non remains in an extremely toxic and dangerous environment. With no regard to his safety and mental health. Because I think Jin actually thinks that Non being with him is enough???? That their being together is worth the horrific harassment Non faces from Jin's bullying friends. Which is mind-boggling and infuriating.

And the minute Jin sees Non being affectionate or "sexual" (in his eyes) with someone else....

[wangxianficrecs]

Rewind 2023 - Follower Recs Part II

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023

Before the year ends, we want to share more recs of your favourite stories that were published this year. All these recs were submitted to WangxianFicRecs anonymously and most of them without further comments, so you will have to check them out yourself~

Rewind 2023 - Follower Recs Part I

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After I Met You

by Amandyalmonds

M, WIP, 78k, Wangxian

Summary: "They’re not going to go through with the marriage proposal though, right?�� Jiang Cheng reasoned. “You’re ours. And surely the Lan sect wouldn’t want a huli jing, let alone the famed Hanguang-jun.” “Exactly," Wei Wuxian said with a grin. "The Lans are too stuck up to know how to handle someone like me, and they won’t risk forcing their precious Hanguang-jun into such a marriage.” Or, after the end of the war, Wei Wuxian is offered as the last known huli jing to marry into the Lan royal family. The only problem is that Wei Wuxian has never met the man he's marrying, and he's not sure he'll survive in a palace with over three-thousand rules.

~*~

it rains, it pours

by jublis

Not rated, 130k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian dashes across the distance that separates him from his husband, like a child running through the dark as if that would lessen its existence. He grabs Lan Zhan’s hand and holds the arm close to his side, to a soft breath of laughter. “Come on, Hanguang-jun,” he half-whispers, because the atmosphere seems to call for it. “Light the way for us.” (Wei Wuxian has scarcely known fear to be gentle — and still. It's as if there’s something murmuring down the hallway, behind the closed door, next to the window in this howling storm: I’m here, I’m here, I’ve always been here…) Or, as Wei Wuxian starts to look into the reasons behind the unsettling notion that something is not quite right, something else starts to look back.

~*~

Take My Pieces, Make Me Whole

by InTheGreySpaces (@inthegreyspaces)

M, WIP, 203k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji reunites with Wei Wuxian in Yiling only to discover that their union in Xuanwu's Cave nearly three years ago had an outcome he never could have anticipated. Instead of leaving the Burial Mounds that evening, Lan Wangji stays, and his actions set in motion a series of events that will save Wei Wuxian and the Wens. But first, he must battle Wei Wuxian's own lack of self-worth, the clutching hold the resentful dead are determined to keep on their champion, the greed of Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangyao's machinations, his own Uncle's unbending disapproval, and the hatred of the Cultivation World. However, friends and allies are found in the least likeliest of places, and eventually, there is a light at the end of the single-log bridge.

~*~

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos

by dvasva (@dvasva)

M, WIP, 127k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: “Of all the rotten luck I could have!" Outside, in between the gentle embrace of an imposing misty mountain and the caress of soft wind, stood the Cloud Recesses. It wasn’t a section that Wei Wuxian had recognized from his time in the sect, but the motifs of clouds and cranes in the buildings, the impeccable feng shui and carefully manicured paths, and the utter silence as the sect members slept peacefully, all burned themselves into Wei Wuxian’s eyes. No wonder the curtains were so firmly nailed to the walls! Any bit of demonic energy escaping the room could call down a veritable army of righteous cultivators! What sort of person in their right mind would dare to summon a spirit into their own body using resentful energy in the Cloud Recesses of all places? What kind of person would scoff so rudely at the Lan Clans most important rule, ‘Do not fraternize with evil?’ After being dead for four years, Wei Wuxian wakes up in a body he doesn't really feel comfortable with, in a place that he's sure wants him dead, and married to a man who surely hates him.

~*~

A Hop, Skip, and a Jump

by Prince_Enby (@enbiart)

T, WIP, 47k, Wangxian & LSZ/OYZZ

Summary: Two years after the events of Guanyin Temple, the Junior Quartet unknowingly walk into an array during a night hunt, and walk out into the middle of a war. None of them are even slightly prepared to deal with the opportunity dropped into their laps - and yet, despite it all, Ouyang Zizhen's biggest concern is somehow still the fact that everyone thinks he and Lan Sizhui are married.

~*~

fans for hanguang-jun

by saltyfeathers

M, 21k, Wangxian

Summary: “What I mean,” Wei Wuxian repeats with as much gravitas as he can muster, “is that every single day in their marriage bed, the Yiling Laozu sp—spears open the most esteemed Hanguang-jun on his—his mmmmmmonster cock!!!” wei wuxian gets kidnapped by a team of belligerent bottoms.

~*~

not wx in the fic

ruin this on me

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

E, 2k, MXY/WWX/XY

Summary: Mo Xuanyu raises his head from Wei Wuxian’s shoulder to mouth at the exposed skin at his neck, leaving bruises and red stains from his lip balm. He forewent the white foundation today; it is more of a hassle in bed than an enhancement, and he carefully avoids the delicately painted huadian from smearing. Wei Wuxian exhales, not quite a moan yet, and Mo Xuanyu grins against his skin before biting down. The Yiling Laozu is a kind master, sweet to his heir and family, but he is not a gentle man. His breathing hitches at the sudden pain, an approval on its own. Or, Mo Xuanyu pays special attention to his sect leader and shixiong.

~*~

💕

the past drifts away with the waves

by thelastdboy (@thelastdboyy)

E, WIP, 28k, Wangxian

Summary: The next time Wei Wuxian became aware of his surroundings and was able to form semi-coherent thoughts, Wen Zhuliu had just finished tying weights to his feet. Both his arm and his back were still bleeding and he felt as if he had been flayed. “Should I make it quick?” Wen Zhuliu asked him, offering a small mercy. But Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Give me your worst,” he snarled, his teeth coated in blood from where he had bitten his tongue at some point. “I will come back to end you all,” he promised darkly. “Very well,” Wen Zhuliu merely said and drowned him. Or: Yu Ziyuan cuts off Wei Wuxian's hand to appease the Wens. He gets drowned in the lake behind Lotus Pier and resentful energy transforms him into a river spirit. After avenging his own death, he finds his way to Yiling.

~*~

this story plus the lovely podfic

if this one could be ransomed

by harborshore

T, 2k, Wangxian

[podfic] if this one could be ransomed

by jennisaisquoi (@jennisaisquoi79)

T, 10-20 Minutes, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji is too late to save A-Yuan. Sick with grief and pain, he throws himself back in time to try again. But he goes back too far.

~*~

a thousand lifetimes

by SapphyreLily (@sapphyrelily)

G, 2k, Wangxian

Summary: Immortal Sizhui doesn't always go looking for the reincarnations of his fathers, but they always find him, in the end.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[shijieswife]

i think about how happy shijie mustve been to be in a happy marriage. how she saw her parents broken, loveless marriage, and must have known thats whats in store for her, as she looks at a boy a little older than her didis, who already looks past her like everyone else and hates her, for trapping him in a marriage with a weak, useless cultivator. who he didnt love.

she must have been so happy, when the betrothal broke. still sad, always sad, always caused by the boy who she - didnt love, but could love, or loved the idea of, she didnt know. the boy who besmirched her name and embarrassed her publically, the both of them, the both of their clans. but she would be free. of a loveless marriage. of making the boy - she didnt quite love, didnt quite hate - unhappy. making herself unhappy. maybe, she would have a husband who loved her, and little ones she would raise with the same gentle hand she raised her didis.

(i think she was scared. a little, a lot. because she hardly had the best marital prospects, and to be a spinster is a fate worse than death.)

but i think she would have been happier when jin zixuan, matured and so grown up, spat out an embarrassing confession to her. after chasing after her, finding excuses to be with her. she must have been happy, to finally get that romance, that she only heard about. dreamed about. longed for.

she mustve been happy at her wedding. bittersweet, without her xianxian there, a large piece of her heart missing. happy, that she could have shown him her wedding robes. married to a man, she knows, xianxian would begrudgingly approve of as the years went on, as a-xuan grew to be more and more good, finally shedding the last of the gentrys silly ideas. dangerous ideas. (she can only hope that for a-cheng, too. she never had to worry about that for a-xian)

she must have been the most happy, when her stomach swelled and her husband strutted around like - well, yes. a peacock ! attended to her every whim, made her giggle. jin furen, for all her faults, saw to her like the mother she never had, all fussing and gentle hands. still sharp, ever the violet spiders sworn sister (or something more), yet kind in a way yu ziyuan could never have been.

and when she held jin ling in her arms, his chubby cheeks, his fat hands clutching her finger so tightly, like he was afraid of her leaving. grabbing his fathers sword, disregarding everything else, like he feared for a-xuan leaving, too. jin rulan, she thought, pleased.

i think, even in the last few weeks, she was happy. even when her a-xuan died, and all she could manage was one long wail, in the recess of their room. when they accused her a-xian of such vile things, things he would never do, not in his right mind, not on purpose. when jin ling cried, and would not stop, unless he held his fathers sword. because jin ling was there, her lingling was still there. she could be happy, for him.

i think she was happy, when she died. because her wei ying was there, her xianxian was still there. she would be happy, that he would live to see another day.

still sad, for her lingling, her didis, the mess she would be leaving behind. but hopeful. because she hoped that her a-ling would forgive her, that he would be raised well, into a good man.

but happy, because she knew wherever she would go, in the next life, she would be reunited with all the pieces of her heart.

and hopefully, it would be happier.

[bafvkun]

I’ll never shut up about how much I respect MXDX as a writer, she’s just THAT amazing and writes beautifully. She’s so good at writing different kind of character developments depending on the age and it’s particularly flagrant in MDZS.

Im just so found of how in the present of the story all the adults, the ones that were old enough during the whole Wei Wuxian ascension, Burial Mounds etc etc, have such deep rooted opinions. They lived through what WWX did and will never forget, they’ll teach the younger generations how dangerous and bad him and his cultivation were and that if he ever came back around the world needs to reunite to beat him again.

But ! Some juniors (and I’m mainly talking about Sizhui, Jingyi and Jin Ling since they’re the main ones) have been in direct contact with Wei Wuxian for a fairly good amount of time. They didn’t know it was him, either not suspecting it could be him at all or just not believing it could be WWX in Mo Xuanyu’s body.

They’re still so very young, just about 15, and they are still capable to build their own opinions and views on things. Despite their educations young people tend to trust what they see since they don’t have experience, what they’re seeing right now is what will be considered and experience and proof when they grow up. As for the adults they only believe what they saw in the past, what was their own experiences when they were young themselves.

Sizhui never doubted Wei Wuxian. When they all got kidnapped and WWX, Lan Zhan and Wen Ning came to save them he knew deep in his heart that Wei Wuxian would have never done it. He saw with his own eyes how he took care of them, how he saved them time and time again, how he put himself in danger for them. He’s still young and not yet entirely influenced by the elders, he still has a mind of his own and now that he witnessed the good, caring and mischievous side of WWX he has his own strong opinion (seeing Lan Zhan trust him so utterly must have helped a lot too).

Jin Ling is in a very dire position compared to the Lan Juniors. His parents are dead because of Wei Wuxian and his uncle hates him more than anyone. He grew up seeing the hatred that Jiang Cheng has for WWX, he was educated to brandish his sword to him if he ever came across him. But just like Sizhui and Jingyi he saw Wei Wuxian with his own two eyes, he saw him tease him and take care of him, he witnessed how despite what terrible thing he did in the past he still has a good heart deep within him and that guilt and grief are still driving him.

He is torn between what he was taught to believe, what his family taught him about someone that he should consider as the devil himself and what his heart itself learned and believes, that in the end he is the one that saved him and took care of him when his own uncle would have threatened to beat the shit out of him.

Wei Wuxian is a good mentor, as mischievous as he can be he also knows how to teach (surprisingly). He makes experiences into lessons in a very endearing way for the juniors, he teaches them through life itself and not through oh so boring lessons.

The juniors, no matter how much they mock him and insult him, appreciate him. He’s a good person, he’s social and nice to have around, he makes everything more bearable for everyone. They were able through their own experiences with him to build their own judgment. Either it will align with their mentor/family or it will not, but no matter what they’ll never fully hate Wei Wuxian the way the elders do.

[glimmervoi]

A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD: III - Afternoon Tea

masterlist

e&b masterlist

Notes: To the assholes who sent me all of those messages, I hope that you hate this chapter and feel unfulfilled after reading it. I hope that you hate it so much that you block me and never read my fic again. I almost just didn't post the update to tumblr cause of y'all &lt;3

To the people who have been kind, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! I introduced a new perspective much sooner than in the original version, and I think it helps to show that there were other things happening in the castle aside from just what the reader is seeing and living through.

As always, I appreciate any feedback! (Unless it involves insults or death threats of course. Cheers to you, anonymous trash bags from the Gown post)

With only four days remaining until the ball, the royal caterers had commenced their slow transformation of the castle's halls. In the center hall, a grand pine tree had been brought in and installed, now adorned with shimmering ornaments and velvety star-shaped garlands.

Elsewhere in the castle, numerous smaller trees, similarly decorated, dotted the corridors. Pine and holly wreaths, interwoven with winter blooms, adorned nearly every door while the expansive windows boasted fragrant green garlands.

The caterers had skillfully infused the spirit of yule into every wing, all while adhering to the color scheme that had been a tradition since long before Namjoon's birth. Though he wasn't always the keenest on the castle’s holiday festivities, he couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the caterers.

Now, as he stood there, gazing at the grand tree in the main hall, memories of his childhood flooded back. Everything seemed so much simpler then...

"Joon?" A voice called out from behind him, breaking through his thoughts. Namjoon turned to find his eldest brother standing a few paces away, his dark-haired fiancée clinging to his arm. Jin's expression clearly betrayed his discomfort and irritation, causing Namjoon to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside him.

It wasn't uncommon for his brother to wear his emotions so openly, but it always amused Namjoon nonetheless.

"Jin," he greeted his brother, approaching them slowly. "And Lady Woong," he added, giving her a small bow and pressing a kiss to the gloved hand she extended towards him. The elegant woman giggled and waved her hand in response, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue.

"Prince Namjoon, there's no need to bow to me," Lady Woong cooed, and Seokjin rolled his eyes. Namjoon offered her a friendly laugh, though he harbored little fondness for her. He saw through her bubbly facade, just as Seokjin did. She was merely another pawn in their mother's schemes.

"We were headed to lunch, but I suddenly recalled our meeting that was scheduled a few days prior," Seokjin interjected, his body subtly angling away from his fiancée despite her embrace.

Namjoon cocked his head, knowing it was a lie - a convenient excuse for his brother to evade the discomfort of his lunch with Woong. Temptation gnawed at him to shake his head and leave Seokjin to endure Woong's company alone, as retribution for the prank his brother had played on him weeks earlier. He still felt the need to check under his pillow every night to ensure that were wasn’t a frog there.

However, Namjoon understood Seokjin's aversion to spending time with his fiancée. If their roles were reversed, Namjoon would want his brothers to lend a hand too.

With a nod, Namjoon offered Lady Woong an apologetic smile. "Forgive me, my Lady. Jin and I have an important matter to discuss. Would you mind if I stole him away for a while?"

Lady Woong pouted and released her grip on Seokjin. "Very well," she sighed, taking a step back from the brothers and smoothing down her peach-colored gown. "But do return him promptly when you're finished."

Namjoon nodded, though a twinge of irritation simmered within him. Who was she to dictate his actions? He was a prince, after all, while she was nothing. Engaging in an argument with her over such a trivial matter wouldn't be wise, but he struggled to suppress the scowl itching to emerge. He and Seokjin observed in silence as she brushed past them, making her way towards the southern wing, where her lunch awaited her.

Once she was out of earshot, Seokjin released a heavy sigh. "Thank you," he breathed, rubbing his shoulder. "She had me in an iron grip; I feared she might snap me in two." Namjoon chuckled at his brother's theatrics.

"Well, we'll have to stage a convincing chat now, in case one of Woong's minions catches sight of us," Namjoon suggested, nodding towards the northern wing. "Shall we sit for tea there? We're less likely to be disturbed, as no guests have arrived for the ball yet."

Seokjin hummed in agreement, and the brothers proceeded to the northern wing. Inside, maids diligently carried out their daily cleaning tasks. They bowed respectfully as the duo passed, but the brothers paid them no mind. After all, they were just maids.

At the end of the hallway, they halted at a pair of double doors. Seokjin pushed them open, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. "Already tidied up," he remarked, stepping inside. "No risk of maids spreading dust."

As Seokjin entered the room, Namjoon turned to a maid assisting a caterer in draping a long piece of purple garland around a portrait of their grandmother. "You," he addressed her, his tone firm. Startled, she looked up, her eyes widening in response.

Namjoon would never vocalize it, but sometimes he relished the fear he instilled in the servants. As the fourth prince in line for the throne, he possessed privileges but little power within the family. Occasionally exerting authority over those beneath him served as a gratifying outlet.

The maid promptly set the garland down and bowed, murmuring a hasty "Yes, sir." Namjoon scrutinized her briefly as she remained in a deep bow. There was something about her that sparked a flicker of recognition, though he couldn't quite place it.

Shaking his head to dispel the thought, Namjoon snapped his fingers to gain her attention. She straightened but kept her chin lowered, awaiting his next command. "Fetch us some tea," he instructed briskly. "There should be a crate from Shivermaw; bring that one."

Without waiting for her response, Namjoon strode into the warm room. Seokjin was already reclining on a spacious sofa by the tall window. As Namjoon drew closer, his brother straightened up.

"I thought you weren't fond of tea from Shivermaw," Seokjin remarked as Namjoon settled into the soft armchair to the left of the sofa. Namjoon offered a faint smile, though it failed to reach his eyes.

"Not the tea itself," he clarified, crossing his long legs. "It's the Duchess I take issue with at Shivermaw. Their tea, on the other hand, is rather delightful. We receive the finest peppermint from them."

Seokjin scoffed and rolled his eyes, a broad grin spreading across his plump lips. "With the way you go on about Damaris, one might mistake you as eager to marry her," he teased, draping his arm over the back of the sofa. "Tell me, little brother, should I plead with mother to arrange your marriage to Damaris before I tie the knot with Woong?"

Namjoon's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as memories of the pale-skinned Duchess flitted through his mind. "I've made my feelings regarding the Duchess abundantly clear," he retorted firmly.

Sensing his brother's seriousness, Seokjin relented, opting to examine his fingernails instead of pressing further on the subject of Shivermaw or Damaris. A wise choice.

"Father requested to see me," Seokjin stated, paying little heed to Namjoon's reaction. Namjoon's breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his seat.

It was unusual for the king to seek out his sons unless the matter at hand was of utmost importance. All the princes understood that their father harbored no intentions of relinquishing the throne until his last breath. However, as the eldest of the seven, Seokjin stood as the primary heir to the crown.

Namjoon was aware that his brother harbored no desire to ascend to the throne of Erydia. Seokjin often spoke of a future where he resided in a grand estate nestled among the glittering lights and bustling social circles of Starwell's most affluent districts.

He couldn't envision himself thriving in such a role as king. Leading a vast kingdom would confine him within the castle walls for the remainder of his days, forever striving to appease the populace while evading potential assassination attempts.

Moreover, Seokjin lacked the knowledge and fairness required to rule the kingdom wisely—an admission he had made on numerous occasions. Years ago, he had expressed his unwillingness to inherit the throne to their father, resulting in a violent outburst from the king that left Seokjin with bruises and a split lip.

Their father's health was deteriorating rapidly. Both Namjoon and Seokjin sensed an imminent change looming, one that could materialize the moment their father's health declined to a critical point.

They shared an unspoken understanding that their father's summons to Seokjin was likely to discuss matters of succession.

Namjoon drew in a deep breath, his unease settling like a weight in the pit of his stomach. "You'll seek me out immediately afterward, won't you?" he inquired, his gaze flickering up to his brother's face.

Seokjin's expression remained stony and unreadable, but Namjoon sensed fear and discomfort beneath the facade. His brother would be venturing into this meeting alone, without the support of his siblings, and that realization left Namjoon feeling cold.

"Of course," Seokjin replied, tearing his gaze away from his nails to fixate on the coffee table before them, adorned with a solitary vase of silk flowers.

"Who knows," Jin murmured, his gaze growing distant as his thoughts undoubtedly raced through every possible scenario between him and their father. "Maybe I'll manage to persuade him to designate you as next in line."

It was no secret among Namjoon and his brothers that he was not only the most competent candidate for the throne but also the only one truly willing to embrace the responsibility. It demanded a level of quick decision-making for which Namjoon was uniquely suited.

Furthermore, Namjoon was one of their father's favored sons. Yet, for some reason, the king remained fixated on appointing Seokjin as his heir.

Namjoon opted not to reply to his brother; they both understood the uphill battle ahead. Their conversation was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, drawing their attention. Seokjin perked up, inviting the visitor to enter.

A moment later a curvy redheaded maid entered, pushing a small silver cart, her head bent respectfully. She released the cart and stepped to the side, bowing her body deeply. "Tea, Sir." she murmured softly.

This maid wasn't the one Namjoon had addressed earlier, but he recognized her nonetheless. She had been a fixture in the castle for some time, long enough for him to recognize her by face.

He knew she performed her duties well, enough that he seldom needed to reprimand her like he occasionally did with other maids.

"Very well," Namjoon acknowledged, gesturing for the maid to proceed into the room. She moved swiftly, arranging the table with the items from the cart—a porcelain teapot adorned with swirling pink flowers, matching tea cups, a plate of ginger cookies, and a small tray of pickled cucumber sandwiches.

"The castle's winter specialty," Seokjin quipped, eyeing the sandwiches with amusement. "Looks like the fresh cucumbers from Esteria haven't arrived yet." He leaned back as the maid began preparing their tea. The aroma of peppermint wafted through the air, and Seokjin found himself relaxing as he savored the sharp scent, his mouth watering in anticipation.

Once the maid had completed her task, she bowed once more. Neither Namjoon nor his brother bothered to offer thanks; she understood her place, and gratitude from those of higher status was unnecessary.

As the maid exited the room, wheeling the now-empty cart with her, the door clicked shut behind her. Namjoon reached forward and poured tea from the pot, serving his brother first before tending to himself.

Seokjin reached for a cucumber sandwich, emitting a satisfied hum as he chewed. "Truly, we have the most exceptional kitchen in the entire kingdom," he remarked between bites. Food always managed to lift his spirits and as he ate, thoughts of his impending meeting with their father faded.

Namjoon toyed with the idea of teasing that their kitchen had to be the best, lest their mother "dispose" of them. However, the atmosphere had finally lightened, and he knew that any mention of the Queen would only dampen the mood once more.

Namjoon savored a small sip of his steaming tea, releasing a breath infused with the refreshing scent of mint. Despite any rivalry with the duchess, there was no denying that the tea she sent remained unrivaled within the castle walls.

A comfortable silence enveloped the room as the brothers relished their afternoon tea, a rare moment of tranquility amidst their busy lives. With Seokjin's impending wedding, such moments had become increasingly scarce. Though Namjoon missed these times, he refused to grant his brother the satisfaction of admitting it; Seokjin would never let him hear the end of it.

For the past week, a nagging sensation had settled in Namjoon's stomach, warning him of impending change. He had initially attributed it to their father's declining health, but a gnawing suspicion signaled something more ominous.

Shaking off his unease, Namjoon averted his gaze to the dark liquid swirling in his cup. Dwelling on uncertainties would serve no purpose now, not when he finally found solace in the company of his brother. Later, after dinner, he would seek counsel from the Healer in the hopes of easing his lingering concerns.

Maybe she would have some answers for him.

[iireinarri]

If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

HI OMG IM SO SORRY FOR THE VERY LATE REPLY, IVE BEEN VERY BUSY BUT SURE! And since I'm a multishipper, I'll just list my top 5 ships out of fandoms I've been in

FengCui: Feng Xiao x Cui Buqu (Wushuang/Peerless) - The reason I love this ship so much and is my top 1 out of all the shows and books ive read and watched is because I'm so in love with their dynamic, development, and interactions with each other. They first start of as rivals then gradually start to fall for each other with each case they work and time they spent togther. I also loved the fact that the author didn't use stereotypical tropes with the main cp. While its enemies to lovers, to me, it's enemies AND lovers because when they do get together, their dynamic didn't change and they still remained the same. And that's one of the reasons why I love this pair so much.

2. Cezhou: Shen Zechuan x Xiao Chiye (Qiang Jin Jiu/Ballad of Sword and Wine) - I honestly debated if this should be my top 1 but I ultimately decided this would be my top 2 mainly bc I prefer fengcui's dynamic more, But of course, that doesn't make this ship any less great and amazing! In my opinion, this is enemies to lovers with sexual tension done right. I used to hate the trope enemies to lovers because of experience and personal things... But this ship changed my perspective on it a lot. Even though they got together early in the novel, they're still the ship that has the most amazing development and growth I've seen in such as a long time.

3. Hualian: Xie Lian x Hua Cheng (Heaven Official's Blessing) - Ah yes... the classic. I had to put them at my top 3 because TGCF and hualian is what mainly got me into danmei and to this day, I still adore them with all my heart and I'll never ever forget how they made such a huge impact on me... They're like romeo and juliet but done right. They're also the couple that made my standards so unrealistic to the point that I think I'll never ever be able to find someone to love as much as how much they love each other... As much as they're unrealistic, they also made an impact on how I view love in general. I also relate to hua cheng when it comes to appearances because dawg... I am also so insecure of that as well... and when Hua Cheng is insecure about it and Xie Lian is just telling him that he's gorgeous and not ugly like he thinks he is just makes me want to cry because that validation and comforting words is what all of us insecure people need. Just having the reassurance that we're perfect just the way we are...

4. Lucathy: Lucas x Athanasia De Alger Obelia/Athy (Who Made Me a Princess) - I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! Athy is so precious to me and I will protect her at all cost! And I love how their relationship just naturally progresses on the time the spent together and isn't just immediate love at first sight. And I also love how lucas went from "I'm going to watch this bc this is entertaining" to "If you ever hurt her, I'll destroy all of obelia" and bro... LUCAS IS SO WHIPPED FOR ATHY ITS SO FUNNY AHAHAH (Also reminds me on how Xiao Chiye is so whipped for Shen Zechuan but that's another time). And not only that, but I love how Lucas got back from his quest, heard about how Athy got humiliated, bro was like: "Should I kill him?" like bro did not care if it was her father, if someone did shit to her, he would deal with them.

5. LoidYor: Loid Forger x Yor Forger (Spy x Family) - BRO I IMMEDIATELY FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS SHIP!! Assassin x Spy? OH HELL YEA! I've honestly been waiting for this kind of trope for such a long time lol. Not only that, but I low how yor is such a girlboss and protects her family even if it isn't real. I honestly really like their progression so far and I hope that they honestly become a family in the end... I have nothing really much to say about this ship because I haven't been keeping up with SXF but I really love them and they're trope because I haven't seen Assassin x Spy trope in fandoms I've been in.

So here are my ships! There are a lot more than these but I just decided to pick which ones that I really love the most and rank them by that. Anyways, thanks for reading this blog!

[maochira]

Hi! I have a random thought of sibling reader calling their brother (raichi, shidou, and kaiser) different things for different reasons, like chichi for raichi to tease him, or rai if they need a favor, but they'd only use their full name for like important things.

THAT IS SO SILLY I LOVE IT. Also I started writing this and then noticed... Hold up those are their last names. For sibling stuff I have to use their first names whoops😭

Requests open! - writing event - masterlist

Tags: gn!younger sibling!reader

To tease Raichi, you like to call him "Jingo-chin" or "Jin-chin", since "-chin" is a diminutive version of "-chan." He hates it. It's not even a pretend kind of hate, he genuinely hates it and tells you to shut up whenever you use that nickname, especially if it's in front of someone else like your parents or his friends.

Shidou never really minded any nicknames you gave him, but he realizes you tend to call him "Ryu-nii" if you need him to do something for you. You used to call him that all the time when you were younger, but as you got older you grew out of it for the most part. Because he notices you only call him Ryu-nii when asking for favors, he likes to ignore you at first until you call him Ryusei or Ryu, just to tease you a bit.

Kaiser doesn't like nicknames based on his first name. He's only okay with it if it's from you. Instead of Michael, you call him "Michi" (a typical German nickname.) Although, he will always give you a death stare if you use that nickname in front of other people, since he doesn't want them to think it's okay if they call him that as well.

[fracturediron]

This whole argument scene between Non's parents and the subsequent fight before he leaves the house is just heartbreaking. For anyone who has a dysfunctional family where screaming rows like this are commonplace, it's incredible relatable. Being powerless to stop your parents fighting, maybe even being the cause of your parents fighting, and feeling like it's all your fault. And no matter where you go in the house to cry, it's never far away enough not to still hear the screaming.

I've mentioned it before, but something I really enjoy about DFF is how none of the characters are completely good or bad, or particularly perfect in the way they handle difficult emotional situations, and that's also demonstrated with Non's parents. They honestly feel like the most realistic parents and family I've seen written for TV, especially parents of this generation.

So often, TV parents of happy families are 'flawed' and will make a mistake, only to be actually self-aware enough to realise they've done wrong or they fucked up with their kid, and to make it up to their kid(s) before episode's end, resolving everything happily.

Whereas real life really isn't like that. So many of these parents, when they're flawed, are really fucking flawed not just as people, but as parents! So many parents of that generation aren't self-aware! So many of these parents were also abused by their parents and went through the same kind of dysfunction, sometimes even worse than what they do to us! So many of these parents need fucking therapy and it will never even cross their mind because therapy's only for 'crazy' people! So many of these parents don't realise how unapproachable they make themselves to their kids and that's why they can never come to them with their problems! So many of these parents probably would've been happier divorced but will never do that and will stick together screaming at each other until one of them dies! So many of these parents will never, ever apologise for the harm they did to you, either because they don't realise they've even caused any harm, or because "Well, I'm your parent! I'm always in the right!"* So many of these parents are emotionally abusive without even realising they are or that emotional abuse is even a thing! Because hey, back in their day, they would've gotten beaten; you've got it so much better.**

Rant aside, though, for all their flaws, severe dysfunction and at times, frankly terrible ways they're handling this whole situation with Non, Non's parents still clearly love him. Yes, I say clearly. It's easy to hate on Non's parents (and for many of us who come from dysfunctional families, this is probably even easier; it's incredibly easy to relate to Non and a lot of his circumstances), and I've seen comments doing just that. However, as with Jin, I don't think Non's parents are monsters either.

Money might not buy happiness, but it definitely makes things easier. And if your family's poor, and constantly struggling to make ends meet or having to take out loans to support your kids, that makes your life circumstances already so much harder.

The myth of the perfect 'happy family' cultivates the idea that if your parents love you, then you'll all be happy together always and your family life will be perfect.

But in real life, your parents can love you - honestly, truly love you and care about your wellbeing - and still really screw you up emotionally. Sometimes, no matter how much they love you, it isn't enough to prevent then fucking up parenting and failing you catastrophically. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

For all the difficulties they have with each other and their child, he's still their son and they still care for him. Again, for all the terrible ways they're handling this whole thing, they care about him enough to make sure he gets the medication he needs, for his dad to stick up for him to his mum, for his mum to try and go after him when he leaves, for them to put aside their differences when he goes missing and to look into raising the money for a new lawyer to look into his disappearance. They're clearly worried and devastated that he's missing!

I wasn't really sure where this was going when I first started writing it, and I'm not sure how to end this, apart from thinking, well... the Prathipsits as a whole really are unfortunate.

*Adding footnotes because otherwise this would've broken up the flow of my writing. Although I enjoyed Turning Red, for real, the most unrealistic part was a Chinese mother actually apologising to her child. ASIAN PARENTS NEVER SAY THEY'RE SORRY AHAHA :'). The fat-shaming aunties, though, that was too real lol.

**While corporal punishment has decreased in general in most of Asia (and this'll vary by countries, but at least in some places, is not pracised in schools anymore), it's still seen in some parts or in some forms or contexts as acceptable by the older generation. Like, I'm a millenial in my late 20s, and I know male cousins or friends around the same age who still got physically beaten by their parents when they didn't do well in school or got in trouble, and that was just seen as normal by the parents and their peers. They didn't see it as abusive at all (their kids, not so much); just what was necessary to literally whip their kids into shape. Obviously, physical abuse is bad.

[laughing-with-god]

I’m just curious and apologies if you’ve answered this before and I missed it! I’m just wondering how you think QQ Jungkook would react to finding out you had been seeing other victors behind his back (romantically or in a friendship ‘help me out’ kind of sense). Especially in regards to Jimin and Yoongi since they hate each other

hmm u guys are so messy and I love it.

tbh there's a lot of different factors at play here. for one, is y/n a district two victor or at least living in two? or is she from another district and living/mentoring there?

If Y/n was living in district two, JK would have so much more control over her. I think the second he catches wind that any of the other victors are interested in her, he'd go to the president and demand that you no longer visit the capitol. he'd probably lie and say you're unfit to train tributes or entertain sponsors. but really he just knows that the only way the others can see you is if you're at the capitol, so he'll make it so you never return lol. what can the other victors do? show up at District Two and bang at your door? that's not possible. he'd be a little shit about it too, making comments about how "happy" you are or how you changed your hair and it's such a shame you can't be here this year (or ever lol).

If you are from/living in another district, things get more complex. I see him being more possessive of the short time you guys have together doing activities in the capitol. he would most likely already be drafting up some way to get you to come live at 2, but until then he's aware that other victors probably are too. he may be brutish, but he's not stupid. so for him, i think he'd use his connections as a favorite to knock the others down, as it's most likely the president who gets final say in where you go.

For Yoongi, I think he'd just try to find his capitol dealer and posion his drugs. this is only if Yoongi becomes such a problem though, as he's not too worried about him. everyone knows that yoongi is a mess and not at all a favorite of the people or capitol, jk looks at him the same way you'd look at a toddler having a tantrum. if you were to show a fondness for yoongi, he'd say alot of manipulative shit like "how do you know he won't beat you in a drunken rage?" "he'd probably pawn your ring off for drugs."

Jin and Hoseok are easy to handle in JK's eyes. Both of them so obviously have their weaknesses; their siblings. JK would probably just make some comments to them like, "How's your sister doing? still reaping age right? hmm, I have lunch with the game makers later today and it'd be a shame if you'd have to mentor your own sibling."

Taehyung kind of intimidates JK, mainly bc no one knows what goes through his mind. but ultimately he's confident that he can beat taehyung in a fight if he ever had to, and as much as tae likes to act strong and silent, jk knows he still is scared of careers. I can see JK making comments around tae about how much he misses the games or how watching his tributes gives him nostalgia. this would freak tae out.

Namjoon and Jimin are the only ones that I think would put up a fair fight.

Namjoon and Jungkook are both favorites of the capitol, but for different reasons. Jk is a poster boy for the games, meanwhile Namjoon represents the future of the games. JK can try to cash in favors, but Namjoon is more respected and probably has even more people on his beck and call. Nanjoon I think is more reluctant to use them, but he will if he's forced to. I also just don't see namjoon raising to any of JK's bait. honest to god, even I don't know who would win here. namjoon is very smart, jk is very determined.

Jimin vs JK. JK would have a brilliant plan tbh. He'd get a capitol woman to hire Jimin for his "services" and record them together. he'd show you the video and be like, "Jimin is just a bimbo who doesn't love you when he can have a rich capitol girl." and tbh it might work, if Jimin didn't see shit like this coming. Jimin has dirt on everyone, and I'd like to think he'd gather some of JK too. So tbh here, it's all about timing.

[aquagirl1978]

IKEMEN PRINCE HEADCANONS - SUITORS REACTIONS TO BELLE REJECTING HIM BECAUSE SHE IS IN A COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP WITH A FICTIONAL CHARACTER

Inspired by @atelieredux and encouraged by @viofuckstheothervillain

Leon Dompteur is amused. Not sharing your love of books, Leon laughs at your rejection, his head tilted back, his mane shaking like a lion's. "And what kind of relationship is that? You can't dance with him. Or hug him." You proceed to recite a laundry list of your lover's best and worst traits, and inform Leon that while your lover is a fictional character, he will always love you and never hurt you. Impressed with your reasoning, he knows nothing he could say would sway you. Leon smiles at you and wishes you well with your fictional lover.

Chevalier Michel is unaffected. "Which book?" he asks. You are not surprised to learn Chevalier recently read this book himself and you end up in a debate - Chevalier argues that the final act of self-sacrificing love was foolish and pointless, to which you countered that he simply doesn't understand love. He locks his ice-blue eyes on you and, for a flash second, wonders if you could be the one to make him understand what love is. But that thought's foolish, he tells himself, and he walks away leaving you with your fictional lover.

Yves Kloss is flustered. "What do you mean, he's not real? How can that be?" he shrieks, his hands plastered to his hips. What has gotten into your head that you can even be in a relationship with a book character? The idea is simply absurd and one that this prince will not entertain. "I hope you have fun with your new boyfriend," Yves scolds you before leaving. "And tell him to be careful of Clavis' traps." Although, secretly, Yves wishes your new lover would fall into one of them.

Nokto Klein is frustrated. He's okay with the idea of you rejecting him, but he just can't wrap his mind around the fact that you're in love with a character from a book. This prince hates books. Dejected, he shrugs, knowing he will never understand this and slinks away.

Licht Klein is accepting. "You're weird," he says. "Really, really weird. Go have fun with your fake lover." You return to reading your book, meanwhile Licht contemplates the benefits of such a relationship with a fictional character.

Jin Grandet is hurt. "But, but..." he stammers. No one has ever rejected him before - if anything, he was the one who did the rejecting. When he sees the smile on your face as you read your book, he knows one thing for sure - he has some stiff competition if he's to ever have a chance with you.

Luke Randolph is inviting. "Oh, you already have a boyfriend? Would he like to come to a tea party? He can meet all my bears and we can have some honey." Luke is sweet and gentle when he hears you have a love interest, and is genuinely happy for you. He wishes you well before wandering off, yawning, in need of another nap.

Clavis Lelouch is determined. "Oh, this is some sort of joke, right? Because there's no way anyone with any sense would turn away the handsome prince standing before you right now." You politely inform him that this is, in fact, no joke, and hold up the book your lover resides in. Clavis peers at the book, still believing this is some sort of prank. "Let's invite him to breakfast tomorrow and you can tell me then who you like better. I know you will pick me, how could you not." Clavis claps his hands as he prepares to walk away, a determined spring in his step. "I will have a grand feast prepared for you, and you'll see. This new lover of yours won't be able to compete with me. Let's see how he fares against my newest traps."

Sariel Noir is rational. The devil looks down at you over the rim of his glasses and clears his throat. "You already have a lover? A character from a book?" He smirks at you, knowing you are too bright to fall in love with someone in a book. This phase won't last, he tells himself. You will come to your senses one day, and when you do, he will be there for you.

Rio Ortiz is heartbroken. "What do you mean, you're in love with someone else?" It doesn't even matter to Rio that you rejected him for someone in a book, it's the fact that you rejected him. Period. He sighs, tears welling in his sad, puppy dog eyes, as he wonders what he did wrong. Too hurt to even think, he retreats to his room where he hopes he will wake up someday and learn this is all some horrible nightmare.

Silvio Ricci is angry. "What do you mean, you're with someone else?" he asks angrily. He becomes absolutely enflamed when he finds out that your lover is fictional. "He exists only in a book?" he scoffs, looking for a door to kick in. He has never heard such nonsense before. "I don't have time for this." He huffs and walks away, jangling loudly as he leaves your presence.

Keith Howell is apologetic. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea you were already spoken for." Keith is so embarrassed he barely registers the fact that your lover is fictional, quietly apologizing for his misstep and hopes you have taken no offence from his actions. "It's okay, Keith." You reassure him that you had not told anyone and that no harm was done. He smiles and asks if you will be in attendance at the next tea party - you may have a fictional lover, but he still would like to be friends with you.

Gilbert von Obsidian is tempted. "You know he is not real," he teases. You nod, well aware that your chosen love is fictional - and also not the worldwide disaster that stands before you. Gilbert, also a lover of books, is somewhat impressed that a character has swayed you so much and a part of him is disappointed that your lover is not real so that he may trample him and steal you from him. In his eye, you have suddenly become that much more desirable.

[kimthwariru]

Like the wind

pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, angst, collage au, rich kid!Taehyung

warnings: slight mention of religion and god

check out chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: Tell me pretty lies, look me in the face

Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them. Love and hate are related to each other in a complex manner;they are visceral. Your stomach twists at the thought of that person. Your blood rushes to your cheeks when someone mentions their name, the heart in your chest beats heavy and bright, nearly visible through your flesh and clothes. Every interaction spikes your blood with a dangerous kind of adrenaline, your body is barely under your control. You’re consumed, and it scares you.

That’s exactly how you felt about Kim Taehyung.

You can’t quite explain it, but even though you didn’t fancy him all too much, there was a part of you that wanted him near you. The mere mention of his name made your blood boil. Especially after that night.

You’d never felt this way about a person before. One minute you wanted to kill him the other you wanted to fuck him. Was there something wrong with you?

Out of all people, why him?

The thing that had been bothering you lately, the question that has been popping up in your head ever since that day;how did he feel about you?

He hasn’t contacted once. Not a single message, and you knew he could get your number if he wanted to, the thing is, he didn’t want to. If he wanted to communicate somehow, he would have, and that just confirms the thought that has been hiding in the back of your brain, too ashamed to come out because of how embarrassing it would be to admit to such a thing to yourself;that Taehyung only used you for his own pleasure. That he didn’t actually care about you, but only about what you did together. You were another victim that fell for him, and that frustrated you.

“Yo are you even listening to me?” Jin’s voice woke you up from your daydreaming. It was the first day of college, Jin was trying to explain accurately every professor’s background and personality. It was sweet of him to offer to help you out, but you didn’t really need it, especially since you were having an entire inner monologue about how much you fucked up things with Kim Taehyung before the semester even started. “Repeat what I just said” he ordered

“I’ve got to be honest…” you began, but before you could even come up with a poor excuse as to why you had been staring at the empty space for what was probably 15 minutes, Jin interrupted you.

“You weren’t even listening to me!” He whined

“Sorry, I have quite the busy mind” you chuckled and pushed his shoulder hoping he would brush this whole thing away and not ask any questions. “it’s almost 10, I’ve got to go”

•••

It almost felt like a dream when you took your first step into Hashfield college. You thought you were mentally prepared for what you were about to witness in this school, but you immediately felt your jaw drop when your gaze caught on a striking woman with . . . questionable style. She wore a mink shawl in September, over a thin olive-green dress, and thigh-high boots. Long blonde hair fell in smooth waves, and with her fake eyelashes and large hoop earrings, she was like an ad to the seventies era. And, as if she wasn’t doing her job well enough, she blew a pink bubble and popped it, her eyes narrowing on you like you were the one whose style was four decades too late.

Now, judging someone based on how they dressed for school was not a habit of yours, but the attitude she was wearing along with her outfit was definitely annoying you a bit.

Just by the way she made a grimace at a couple of girls that simply passed by her, minding their own business (an asset very rare for insiders) screamed what type of girl she was.

You know the kind, probably a cheerleader, or a leader in some kind of attention seeking club, popular, possibly had every jock wrapped around her fingers. These type of girls, they never leave high school, they never abandon that mindset, it stays with them. Mean, cavalier, superficial... The kind who doesn’t have a thought stay in her head too long or else she needs a nap. If polar opposites were ever in the same room, it was her and you, undoubtedly.

She was surrounded by 2 fit guys and a red head that was carrying a handbag that matched hers. If she was Regina George then that was definitely Gretchen Wieners.To your disappointment, you watched as a very familiar back approached them. Kim Taehyung. Of fucking course he hanged out with that type of crowd.

The fact that you had to walk passed them to get to your class seemed like a form of torture. You wish the earth would just open in two, and shallow you in. You felt your heart beat faster and faster, and you tried to move quickly to avoid them like they were a bunch of hyenas and you were a sheep whose survival instincts had kicked in. As if things couldn’t get any worse, just when you were about to surpass them, thinking you’ve succeeded in staying invisible and out of Taehyung’s sight, you hear a male voice calling your name

“Y/n!! Surprised you actually showed up. Hope this sight lasts” Jungkook’s voice made a bunch of slurs rush to your mind.

You hated the fact that your gaze immediately met Taehyung’s, as if it was reaching out to him, or even worse, searching for him. He stood there, simply wearing gray nike sweatpants and a white Celine t-shirt, yet you swear he looked a hundred times better than any model you’ve ever seen. He was larger than life in this hallway. Or maybe, this hall was just small? No, it looked like a normal-sized hallway. Ugh, get a grip.

“Hoped you’d chicken out last minute” Taehyung’s indifferent voice ran down your spine, with a strange thrill following in its wake. You’d never admit it, but you had strangely longed for the the alluring feeling his voice gave you.

“Glad that my presence made all of you so excited” you scoffed

“Excited is kind of overselling it, don’t you think?”Taehyung answered almost immediately.

“I’d argue differently” You gave him a look that conveyed;you were definitely excited when you went down on me the other night, Kim Taehyung.

The blonde girl pursed her lips in annoyance when all of the attention had shifted from her to you “Excuse me, who even are you?” She regarded you like someone would watch Animal Planet—like you were another species and possibly dull entertainment.

“I really need to get to class-” You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks when Jungkook’s elbow rested on your shoulder out of the blue.

All these years had passed since the last time you were this close to Jeon Jungkook, however his aura had remained the same. Cold, alarming yet somehow attractive. You caught a glimpse of Taehyung’s eyebrow raising slightly. Almost as if he was jealous “She’s Y/N” Jungkook said “The outsider”

The girl’s face light up in surprise, like she had just met someone from a different planet “Incredible” A judgmental eye look traveled carefully from top to bottom. Your insides were flaming in anger, what was she looking at? “Never seen one so up close before. You’re quite the talk these days.” A condescending smile painted her rich blonde girl face. “I mean an outsider!. In Hashfield? It’s wild”

You swallowed your pride knowing that arguing with these types of girls would only do you harm. You took one last look at Taehyung but the minute your eyes locked he turned his head to the side, as if he was embarrassed to even look at you.

Strange. You’ve never seen him like this before.

“As I was saying, I really need to get to class.” Your tone cold and indifferent, completely masking the wide range of emotions you were experiencing all at once.

•••

You never really understood the way that some people romanticized university life.

In movies and television shows, it’s all soft acoustic indie music playing over the image of some girl reading in a library, and an attractive mysterious guy gazing at her from afar, time seemed to have almost stopped as he was slowly falling in love with her.

Reality was far less idyllic.

Studying at the library was a battle between you and your attention span, the constant whispers exchanged between two annoying friends that weren’t aiding your situation at all, and the long ass paragraphs that became intelligible after four sentences, so you had to restart again from the beginning a few times before you read through the whole thing—still not understanding half of it nonetheless.

After what seemed like an hour of struggling to comprehend the difference between salve and salvete you realized Latin would probably be a bit more difficult than you had initially expected. You got up and paced towards one of the many enormous bookshelves to grab a book called “The modern guide to the not so modern Latin” this should help, you thought.

“You going to stand there and stare at that book all day, or are you going to move? Pretty sure just looking at it won’t win you any points anyway” the smooth, low, familiar voice that left Taehyung’s downturned mouth caught you off guard. You immediately jerked your head up to face him. Messy dark curls fell in his eyes accompanied with unexpectedly delicate features and cold, somewhat impatient gaze.

You blinked at him blankly, your stomach dipped like a tilt-a-whirl. You were finally alone with him for the first time after that night, and just as the smell of freshly baked sweet potatoes with turkey brought you back to a Christmas dinner with your mom and aunt, his cologne brought you back to when he was all over you, kissing your neck. “Pretty sure you’re not getting any extra points for being a pain in the ass either, but hey, look at you” you replied quickly, finding your tongue and only narrowly fighting back the annoyance that threatened to seep into your tone.

He replied by simply curling his lips up slightly, almost as if he was amused by your response. His eyes flickered up to the bookshelf as he peeled his attention from you, probably scanning for some kind of book ad you took a moment to admire his sharp jawline. When he’d finally spotted it, he took a step forward and as if you were the same poles of a magnet, you took one back. He chuckled at your obvious try to avoid him and extended his right hand to grab a book that was titled “Everything and nothing about the history of religion”

“Didn’t have you for a guy that would read this stuff, thought you said you lost God a long time ago”

You watched as he quirked a dark eyebrow “Guess you haven’t forgotten everything about me” He slipped one hand into his pocket as his gaze fell down your body “You know, there’s a lot of time to read in here, and I’ve read it all” he sighted “Talmud, Torah, Quran, Tae Te Ching” he smiled at you “Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Jainism. Figured if I was looking for God, I should look everywhere.” He made a pause “Came out of that an atheist” he shrugged his shoulders

“Bet that’s a story” you said, gesturing to the book he was holding

“It is and it isn’t. I’m just in the middle of a project right now, besides, history behind religion was always more fascinating to me than the religion itself”

“Oh right, well, that sounds interesting, I’ll leave you to it then” Really? You couldn’t think of a less idiotic response? He just opened up about something clearly personal and you were too awkward to keep a normal conversation flow going? Embarrassed, you took a step to go around him and completely disappear—but, before you could, something grabbed your wrist.

He grabbed your wrist.

His grip felt like a band of fire; rough, calloused fire. A cool breath of fear mixed with something boiling hot leaked into your bloodstream. He stood only a few centimeters away from you, his grip the only thing connecting the two of you.

“Just so I know, are we going to pretend that night never happened?” his deep voice reached your ears

“What?” You breathed, your train of thought lost because of the hand wrapped around your wrist. It wasn’t a hard grip, but it was heavy, firm, immovable. It made you aware of how much smaller you were, how unnerved and out of place you felt. How you couldn’t leave unless he chose to release you.

He took a step closer as he watched you with an inquisitive gaze. Your heart felt close to stopping and your skin was burning up. “Are you going to pretend my dick wasn’t inside your mouth a few days ago?” he lowered his voice and you felt like you were about to pass out.

“I don’t know, are you going to pretend you weren’t in between my legs?” You managed to say and tried to pull your wrist away but he didn’t let you go.

Your pulse fluttered when his thumb brushed your knuckles. A smile painted all over his face like he had just done something he was proud of. “You know, if you want another round, all you have to do is ask”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” You said, breathing out an annoyed sigh as you brushed a piece of hair back from your face “Stop treating me like some girl that’s obsessed with you” you tried to free yourself from his grip “Let go!”

His gaze came back to your face, and you looked at each other for a moment. His grip slipped down your wrist, palm, fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips brushed your softer ones, and made your heart skip a beat. “I don't regret a single second I've spent with you, do you?”

What the hell? That was the last thing you expected to hear from his mouth and you didn’t know how you were supposed to respond. “Is this one of your sick jokes? Pretending to mean all these things when in reality all you want to see is how l’ll react? Because I’m tired of playing this game Taehyung, not this time, not with you.”

“No games” he pulled you even closer to his body “can’t you just listen to me?”

“I would if you talked to me. Do you know why I always need to have my guard up when it comes to you? Don’t you remember how embarrassed I was when you played that whole prank with Jungkook?” You pushed him away “Asshole, what makes you think it’s ok to play with people’s feelings like that?”

Two years ago. Jungkook was the only person you’d talk to, he was kind and seemed to like everything you did. The day after you’d confessed your feelings for him, you found out that the whole thing, Jungkook hanging out with you and pretending to like you, was a whole show Taehyung had put up. He’d made Jungkook do it. How dare he play with someone’s heart like that? What if all this was set up by him as well? You could never be too sure with him.

“Y/n, about that-“

“No. I’m done with you and your excuses. Just leave me alone” You cut him off “That night, I was drunk, and horny, and out of my head. Was it your dick I sucked? Sorry, can’t seem to remember that well, my memory is quite foggy” scorn laced your tone. You were done with him this time, you felt your blood boiling just by looking at him—and not in a good way.

“y/n come on-“

“You know, I really think that alcohol isn’t good or bad. But the version that can come out of me when I have enough to drink…yeah, she is bad. She’s careless and selfish and does things that I would never do sober.” Your tone monotonous, and your heart heavy as you know deep down that what you’re saying isn’t necessarily the truth. But you have to find a way in order to get away from Taehyung, he is bad for you, and you’re scared this whole thing is just another prank he carefully set up for you to fall in. But you knew better this time. “There is…a saboteur inside of me. she did everything that night, got it? And she left me to deal with the consequences of her actions.”

Taehyung pushed you with his body against a bookshelf. His right hand resting next to your head while you tried your best to control your breathing “You’re seriously going to pretend you didn’t love the way my tongue licked every inch of your skin?” His face centimeters away from yours as he stared at you dead in the eyes “The way you moaned my name?” He brought his right knee slightly up, just enough to push against your heat, providing the right amount of pressure to make your tummy tense up. How did he manage to have control over you yet once more? “The way you begged to eat my cum?” he breathed

“Stop…” your tone not very convincing, as you clearly didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. His mere knee was making you wetter than any other man ever did. And you hated him for that, you hated him for being the only one that made sucking someone’s dick enjoyable, so much you’d think about it every single night before you went to bed.

But love and hate seem to have an interesting relationship inside your head.

“Why are you putting on this whole show, when you feel the same things I do?” He placed his lips on the side of your neck, giving it a small and gentle kiss before facing you again “you smell amazing, you know that?”

The impact of his stare found a way to touch your skin. Again, a thing only he could do. The memory of him naked and exposed played on a loop, intense and hot, in your head. Just so you didn’t look like an intimidated little girl, you held his gaze for a breathless second.

Feel the same things I do?

What the hell did he mean by that? He wasn’t suggesting he actually viewed that night as something more than a meaningless hook up, was he? “I don’t have time for this, I need to get back to studying-“

“Studying, yeah” he jerked his head slightly backwards and sighted, and you couldn’t help but stare at his prominent Adam’s apple as it slowly moved. “Feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall sometimes” he took a step back

“I thought you loved walls” you smirked and distanced yourself from him “Next time, maybe don’t ghost me” you said with an indifferent voice, and maybe for a split second you wanted him to stop you one more time, grab you by your wrist and pull you in for a kiss, you closed your eyes and painted that picture in your head. But he never did.

It was for the best. Kim Taehyung was bad news, you knew how he treated girls, made them feel special and unique until he decided he was done with them. You were not going to allow yourself to fall for his little scheme. You caught a glimpse of his eyes, it was almost as if he was annoyed by you, as if you were the one who acted like a pretentious dick all the time.

You hated mornings

You couldn’t possibly describe how much.

Which was weird, considering dawn was your favorite part of the day, but the cold and empty feeling that you got when you first open your eyes is cruel and torturing. No matter how much you’d sleep, you would always feel tired when waking up.

Another reason why you hated mornings was because you had to get ready for Hashfield college. You had to find the right clothes and fix your hair and makeup. Not necessarily because you wanted to fit in but because that would make your day much easier. And it sounds dumb, but that was the case and you had to live with it.

There’s one thing you enjoyed about your dull mornings though, and that was the daily morning gossip call with Mina. She’d tell you everything that had happened last night and it would always make you even more jealous for the fact that you didn’t apply to a normal University outside of town instead of Hashfield. You could feel Mina’s excited voice. She was free. And you envied that.

“Ugh one thing I miss about Outfield is the coffee man, there’s just no competition”

“Uhh yeah sounds awful Mina you wanna switch places with me? Life sucks but at least coffee is bomb so I’d say it’s worth it right?”

Mina chuckled “I'll ignore your usual morning chipper and tell you all about the date I had last night”

You were always thankful for the distraction Mina provided every morning “I’m all ears”

“Okay, so” you could basically hear her smile through the phone “ "I was at the bar the other night and ran into this guy, his name's Beck, and we immediately hit it off, We talked for like, two hours afterwards, and he asked for my number. Few days ago he called and asked if I wanted to go out with him, and I was like hell yeah let's tear up the town. Guy picks me up at my apartment in this sleek ass car, and takes me out to this fancy pants restaurant, letting me order whatever I wanted, I mean this dude is loaded. Eventually I ask him what he does for a living, since he's got cash falling from the fuckin' sky. Apparently he works for the fucking Kim family? Isn’t it crazy how small the world is?”

“The Kim family!?” You repeated, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, the Kim business was booming the last decade, Taehyung’s father might be a shitty person but he is an awesome businessman.

“Y/n… you wanna know what’s even crazier?”

“Well I can’t say no now, can I?”

There was a small pause before Mina spoke again “He told me Kim Taehyung is going to be engaged soon.”

Words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

You knew insiders were engaged early, basically, their parents wanted to secure business merges by having their kids engaged. It did good for business and insiders didn’t want to get married to outsiders in the first place, so it worked.

But Kim Taehyung? For some reason, you always thought he’d be a different case. He was known for his recklessness and not completely adhering to the rules inside the walls. He’d sleep with a lot of women, insiders and outsiders. He didn’t care about the gossip and he certainly didn’t care about what his daddy would say.

So yeah, in a way, hearing these news shocked you in more ways than one. “Are you sure? How would he know?”

“Talks around the office. You know how these things go y/n, if daddy says it then it’s law”

You hated mornings.

Perhaps, in hindsight, the fifth drink had been a mistake.

He isn't drunk, maybe tipsy, he hates to admit that he has grown a tolerance for alcohol. These many drinks into the evening, Taehyung’s short term memory wasn't up to its usual standards. Standing in the door of the bathroom, Taehyung thinks, 'Why am I in here?' It takes at least five seconds before he remembers that he wanted to pee , he's had five drinks and three glasses of water, and things are beginning to get urgent.

“Come ooooon we only have one fucking bathroom in this whole place” he listened to Jungkook’s stammering voice from the door. They had the same amount of alcohol but Jungkook was having a rougher time than him. Considering he apparently forgot there are two more restrooms downstairs.

Jerking his head back, letting his curls fall down, Taehyung thinks of you.

He wasn’t going to, he made a promise to himself to flick away this attraction he seemed to have for you. It wasn’t doing him any good and he knew things with you should remain platonic for your sake. He wasn’t a good guy, and he liked you enough as a person to keep a disntace before fucking everything up—like always.

Was it a week ago? He recalls that’s the last time he talked to you, in the library. Fuck, he could still smell your perfume in his nose as if you were there with him.

But you weren’t.

You were in that other party with Seokjin and Zed down at Clair’s. Taehyung wouldn’t step foot anywhere near Clair’s house, she was crazy for him and things hadn’t ended up the way she wanted so she made sure to make Taehyung’s life a living nightmare instead.

But right now, all Taehyung was thinking about was how much he wanted to punch the shit out of Zed. That dude was an A class asshole that wanted nothing but get his way in your pants. He knew you weren’t going to give it to him, you were smarter than half of the insiders he knew, but he couldn’t hold his worry back.

“Come ooooon dude I will fucking piss my pants”

Taehyung laughed at the sounds Jungkook was making. He finished his business and opened the door chuckling. “You know there are other bathrooms here buddy, right?”

“Whatever” Jungkook blurred before immediately letting loose of his pants. He didn’t even have the sense of mind to close the door behind him.

Jungkook was a good kid, very misunderstood by everyone. Granted, he was a massive dick to girls, but that’s just because he had his heart broken by his first love, and it’s been downhill ever since.

He was like a brother to Taehyung, he was there when Taehyung’s parents had split up, probably the darkest Taehyung had ever been. But Jungkook remained by his side through it all, and Taehyung knew he’d never meet a friend like Jungkook again.

Taehyung and Jungkook didn’t fight, ever. Except well , this one time.

They fought one time over you.

Jungkook had met you while hanging out with some weird crowds outside of the walls, and he seemed to grow a liking towards you. You had similar interests and hobbies despite the different worlds you two were living in, Taehyung had to bite the inside of his cheek every time Jungkook mentioned your name as if it had honey dripping all over it.

Taehyung loves Jungkook, but he knew he wasn’t good for you, so he decided to lie to you and spread the rumor that Jungkook liking you was a prank.

He was stupid for doing that, but he blames his young age and blinding jealousy for that. He still remembers how offended Jungkook got, but he got over the whole thing pretty quick, at least until he’d found his next victim.

Jungkook was a good kid, but he wasn’t good enough for you, no insider was, including himself.

“You’re kind of off today, Taehyung” Brianna wrapped a hand around his waist “Something on your mind?”

A lot of things he couldn’t talk about, especially with her “Nah, just tipsy I guess”

“Oh my god Bri” Tess laughed at her phone like she had just seen the funniest thing of her life “Isn’t that the new outsider girl? y/n, was her name? Was it?”

The mention of your name made Taehyung look at Tess’s phone screen. It was a video of you throwing up in a vase of flowers with the caption ‘Guess outsiders can’t handle alcohol that well’

“I give her another month before she drops out.” Brianna was as toneless as always “Why on earth would she think that mixing with Hashfield was a good idea? Outsiders are a joke, honestly”

“Why do you care, Brianna? It’s just college, who gives a fuck anyways?” Taehyung interrupted, not even bothering to mask how annoyed he was.

When Taehyung imagined what he wanted from life, getting engaged with Brianna was never on his list. It wasn’t even a thought that occurred, until his good-for-nothing ambitious father decided that the Arden family was doing massive numbers in sales. So what better way to merge businesses than to engage him to the Ice queen?

Jesus, his father was a lost case. Tae swore to himself that he’ll never go through with the deal. His plan was to finish Hashfield College as fast as possible and travel around the world, get far away from the fucking wall.

Brianna scoffed, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing in her damn life. “just College?” She eyed him “Taehyung, it’s Hashfield”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes so fucking much he thought he saw his brain for a second. People like Brianna were not to be reasoned with. “Me and Jungkook are heading to the after party.”

“The after party? I think you’ve had enough to drink already” She lectured him as if she was his goddamn mother, she wasn’t.

“Didn’t know thinking was one of your abilities, you keep surprising me” His tone was rougher than usual but he didn’t really care. Plus the O shaped face she just made was the most amusing thing she’d done all day today. “Cmon Jungkook, let’s go”

•••

If you could get an image stuck in your head forever, it would be Taehyung’s face when he saw you walking out of the bathroom giggling with Zed, heading to find the others downstairs.

Of course, nothing had happened with Zed, he just wanted some help throwing all that tequila out of his system because he drunk a little more than he could handle, which was not much to begin with.

But Kim Taehyung’s expression was painted in your mind. Almost as if he was ready to punch Zed in the face.

Whatever.

What was he doing here anyway? Last you heard, he was at some fancy party with his girlfriend—or should you say fiancé, Brianna.

You don’t remember the last time you actually locked eyes with him since that run-in at the library. During lectures, you’d pretend he wasn’t there, but that only made it worse because you ended up constantly thinking about him. His mere presence was a constant burden. Kim Taehyung was a demon, or the devil himself.

The ninth circle of hell was not in some deep bowel under the earth, it was right here, in front of Clair’s Olympic sized swimming pool. Taehyung removed his shirt and dived in with a couple girls following him soon after. His hair wet and all over the place, locks falling loosely in his eyes, his body shiny under the moonlight and that fucking smirk all over his face. How could a man look this attractive?

“Fucking hell” you hear Celine basically moan.

Yeah, everyone was starring at the half-naked prince of Hashfield. Including you, and he noticed. You hate that he caught you looking

You quickly averted your eyes back to your phone, you didn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of starring at him. Especially now, that he was acting like he had you down already.

“Fuck he’s hot” Nessa’s mouth had more water than the pool itself.

“I know right?” Jess exhaled deeply “Imagine fucking that”

Imagine fucking that

You cursed all sorts in your brain. Of course everyone wanted him. What’s not to like? A mysterious bad boy image, money, the fame of half the world, and soon to be C.E.O of the Kim cooperation. He was THE shit, and the worst part about it;he knew it.

The way he’d glance at all the girls that were eyeing him up and down, he felt the stares and he was feeding off of them.

“Jess your jaw is hitting the ground” Jin teased and in response he got a slap on the shoulder.

Your eyes jumped back at the pool, only to catch Taehyung starring back at you, his eyebrow cocked up, his expression was like an invitation, a dirty one. He watched as you took a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact for a split second. This had been the longest you had starred at him. His eyes pierced through your soul, and you burned so much that no amount of ice could cool you down.

The devil.

“What do you think about him? Kim Taehyung” Zed bumped your shoulder resulting in that eye contact to break.

“I don’t know. . . Arrogant dick sounds like a nice summary” you faked a smile.

Arrogant dick was one way to describe him, among other things you wouldn’t say out loud, ever.

Zed chuckled at that. “Yeah, I don’t like the dude much either. He’s too lost in his own little fantasy world his good daddy built for him”

Wow, ironic much? Considering that was the case for most people around them, including him.

“It’s not his fault his daddy got money” Defending Tae was not your intention, but that statement was true. Sure, his father was this Hashfield King everyone admired yet feared, but it wasn’t Taehyung’s fault he was born into his family.

“I guess…”

He guesses. As if Zed wasn’t a nepotism baby. Living in the shadow of his family’s wealth. Probably marrying another woman that did the same.

•••

If it was one thing you enjoyed doing in those good-for-nothing outsider parties, it was to stroll around the huge mansions they were held in.

So many rooms that looked more like museums or modern art galleries that no one took an interest in because they were too busy getting fucked up by the jacuzzi or had no taste for such things to begin with.

Your eyes caught an enormous half opened wooden door with golden details on the side. You enter the room to find out it was an office. The place was a perfect square with a blue, stylish couch, a mahogany desk with a couple chairs in front of it, a flat-screen TV, and a minibar.

The walls were concrete, but with the gold and blue oriental rug and nothing but one piece of artwork on the wall, the room was somehow warm and comfortable.

You studied the painting that sat behind a shiny piece of glass. Pastel colors and bold yet refined sweeps of a brush. You weren’t much of an artistic person like your mother, but you recognized the work. You’d watched a documentary about the downfall of modern art. That what we consider art today is a poor example of the talent and heart of art in the past.

“Got lost trying to find the bathroom again?” Taehyung’s voice made goosebumps run down your back.

How did you two always manage to end up in the same places? Manage to read the same books, enjoy the same movies, like the same music? “Stalker alert”

You turned around and met his face. A thick atmosphere hung in the air. “Don’t flatter yourself” he scoffed “I’m impressed that leach Zed isn’t here with you, I thought you two were a package deal” He downed his drink and paced around the room, his attention moving from your eyes to the painting behind you.

“I could say the same thing about you and Cruella de Vil”

He laughed at that. A soft laugh, the kind that could melt your heart. “I can’t tolerate Brianna for more than an hour honestly”

“You’re not that tolerable yourself either”

Taehyung remained silent. His gaze fixed on the only painting in the room. And all you wanted to do was touch him just to make sure he was actually there, and you weren’t dreaming.

You should’ve gotten out of that room the minute he got there. He was trouble, and it was best to stay away from him, but for some fucking reason you found yourself glued there, gazing at him as if he was god himself.

“The Cliff Walk at Pourville” he suddenly broke the silence.

“Didn’t take you for a guy who would have a soft spot for Monet”

He turned his head, his dark eyes found yours and for a moment you felt your head spinning. “My mama was a fan” Your stomach warmed at the deep way mama rolled off his lips. “She had good taste” He laughed quietly. A bitter note showed through, and he wiped his amusement away with a palm like he’d just realized what he’d done. “You know why she liked about The Cliff Walk at Pourville so fucking much?” He clicked his tongue “It looks like the beach surrounding the wall. She said if she could paint freedom, it would look like that” he tapped the painting with his finger sort of aggressively. “And now she is free and I’m left alone in this fucking cliff”

Was that anger in his tone? Or maybe disappointment…? You figure it was a cocktail of the two. For some reason, your heart broke. You knew how much he loved his mum, you haven’t heard any news about her. Kim Taehyung’s father was a mean and cruel man, but how cold does a mother have to be to leave behind her only son like that?

“Don’t you like it here?”

His eyes wondered around the room, almost as if they were avoiding you “I don’t know…I mean it’s Hashfield right? I should be on my knees thanking the fucking God that I get to live inside the wall.” He breathed “The Damn wall”

“I can’t figure you out. I thought you enjoyed all of this…”

His drunk gaze found yours.

And you swear you lost sensation in your legs. He was a statue, something out of this century, maybe he was a reincarnation of Achilles. Or maybe he was not human.

His lips were slightly apart and his eyes were almost sparkly under the light. He smiled and finished what was left of his drink “I’m afraid you will never figure me out”

You rolled your eyes. Even drunk and out of his head he remained stubborn and an annoying know-it-all. “Why not?” You returned the smile, weirdly amused by the fact that his nose had turned slightly red from all that booze.

“I’m a paradox” His eyes tried to fix on you for a minute but soon flattered “I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet ambitious. I don’t like myself but I also love who I am.” He took a long breath “I pretend I don’t care, when in reality I do. I crave attention, yet reject it when it comes my way. Im a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else can”

At that point, every last piece of your armor disintegrated. You felt Taehyung was being genuine with you, for once. He told you something about himself. He let you inside a corner of his brain. There was no pretense, it was just you, him and the Monet painting behind you.

“You miss your mother?” A gulp in your throat, you couldn’t hold this question back.

He exhaled “Everyday”

“You know, I used to think that losing someone went hand in hand with losing a part of yourself. That losing a person close to you was like giving away a little bit of who you are every time you said goodbye. But that’s not always true. Some losses, some parting of ways, are essential for our personal growth. When we burn a bridge, we allow something new to grow from its ashes. Something that wouldn’t have gotten the chance to bloom otherwise. So most of the time loss actually goes hand in hand with a new beginning, a new chance, even if it takes us years to see the change and to realise that maybe it was for the best. With every person you lose, with everyone you willingly let go, you get to know a part of yourself that was hidden before.”

He looked at you carefully as he took the remaining steps towards you. His cologne pierced your nose and nerves played beneath your skin when instead of stopping he came closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer “You’re really something, you know that?”

You pretended this position didn’t effect you at all, but in reality your heart raced from the shock.

“Y/N..” You turned your head to look at him. your breath shallowed when you realized his lips were only inches from your own. His gaze was warm, seeing deeper beneath your skin with each second. “Why are you here?”

You frowned your brows “I just…I like snooping around these big houses, I’m not really used to them. Plus if I have to sit through one more insider small talk I will drown myself in the pool. By the way did you know this house has like six pools? how many do you even need-“

“I mean Hashfield. Why on earth would you come to this place? I know you hate it”

“You’re right” A deep breath “I never wanted to come to Hashfield. It was not this big dream everyone thinks I had.” You exhaled and took a sneak peak of the way he was looking at you. He made you feel like whatever you were about to say was of importance. And it was. “The biggest mistake I’ve ever made was thinking time didn’t exist for me. I was young and stupid and convinced time would bend to my will like reeds bend to the wind. I was going to be a high schooler forever, you know? I had no plans, no dream job, nothing. But for whatever reason, I was always good with school. My grades were always top of the class and my teachers constantly praised me. That’s when my mum recommended that I try out for Hashfield. She really believed in me. No one ever believed in me but she did.”

“You never told her you didn’t want to come here?” He asked, rightfully so.

“I kept the words that could change everything lodged under my tongue, too scared, too shy, too embarrassed to say them out loud. Because what should I tell her? That I’ll reject the greatest opportunity anyone could have? That all the hard work and support she gave me was for nothing?” You sighted “I was going to tell her, eventually, I was sure about it. I thought I could put it off for another week, at least. The week became a month. And then the acceptance letter came and it was too late…Time. I had ran out of time.”

The dim lighting made his eyes look like burnt gold. “I guess one good thing came out of that”

“What?” You asked, already knowing the answer in your head, but you wanted to hear it from him

“We met again”

“We met multiple times outside the walls before, you know”

“Yeah” a faint smile “but that was different” he made a pause “I was different”

Tension crept between the two of you, finding its way between your legs and settling there like a heavy weight. You found yourself thinking about so many things. You wanted to see what was beneath that white shirt. You wanted to know how much little effort it would take for him to hold you down. You wanted to put out this fire inside you that had been there since the last time he touched you. But then. The words escaped your mouth as if they had a mind of their own “I heard you are getting engaged”

His gaze found yours, and the gold blackened around the edges. Your pulse pirouetted to a strange dance. “You heard?” his voice darker than usual

“I’m surprised more people don’t know about it. You’re like a prince around here”

“That’s because it’s not official yet” he exhaled a deep breath “My father is in the midst of some big deal and apparently he wants me to be the seal of it.. He can go fuck himself. I’m not planning to be a pawn in his game.” The anger quickly turned into amusement as he saw your face “Why princess, you thought you had lost me forever?”

With his body pressed against yours, warming you from the inside out, the pull to lean in was a physical thing. A heavy tug, as if he was your center of gravity. You could taste his breath and feel his strong heartbeat.

How easy it would be; to bury your fingers in his hair, to run your hand along his jawline, to meet your mouth with his.

You knew it would be the best kiss you’d ever have.

But you manage to tame that urge. Almost as if the two sides inside of you were fighting and hopefully this time, reason was winning. “Will you let go of me?”

To be fair. You weren’t making much of an effort to free yourself from his grip.

“I don’t want to.”

You loved his voice and the way he said that.

What was wrong with you? “Let me go”

“You’re not very convincing”

“You’re a dick”

“You always say that”

“Cause it’s true”

“Well I guess I’m a dick with a very kissable mouth then”

You cringed at the memory of you admitting he has a kissable mouth. It was true, but he didn’t need to know that. “Remove your hands Kim Taehyung”

Just when he was about to open his mouth and say something -probably very annoying- his phone rang.

“You should take that, maybe it’s your fiancé”

He raised his eyebrow in annoyance and checked his phone. The name on the screen wrote ‘Jungkook’ and you felt your throat dry up from the memories that hit you.

Kim Taehyung was not a good person to you, why were you in his arms?

“It better be important Jungkook” he answered his phone.

KIM TAEHYUNG P.O.V

“Look man, I-I didn’t do it okay? I mean-I mean I did it’s just- I had a lot to drink and Jimin was teasing me, saying I was a pussy and too scared to do it”

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

This couldn’t be good.

“What happened Jungkook. Fucking spill it”

He stared as you reached for your phone in your back pocket. It had been vibrating for a while. Who was texting you so impatiently? Was it Zed? Seokjin?

“I told Zed about the bet. I told him that we made a bet and you won, that you’d slept with y/n. Look man I’m sorry I-“

Your expression turned cold when you read the text messages on your screen. “What the fuck!?” You yelled as you pushed your self away from him. Your eyes slowly turning up, meeting his own. He could tell whatever you read probably broke your heart right there and then

He had fucked up. Big time.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kim Taehyung?”

Jungkook was continuing his rumble making a half assed apology when Taehyung hangs up the phone. Trying to calm you down “Y/n I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“I knew it…” Your expression was empty, almost cold, Taehyung had never seen you like this before. You were always bright and warm. You were the only person he felt comfortable around, but right now… he could barely look at you in the eyes. “I can’t believe I trusted you. Kim Taehyung. A fucking bet?” You basically growled “Over who gets to fuck me? You truly are your father’s son.” He could taste the bitterness out your mouth when you spat that.

“Y/n… I can explain… please” He needed to explain to you…what? That you were lovely and smart and better than anything he deserved? That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for you?. That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on you, to look for you, to need you near.?

Would you even believe him if he did tell you that? He thinks not. And he deserves the way you’re looking at him right now. Like he was garbage, because maybe, he truly is his father’s son. “I’m sorry… you can’t imagine how sorry I am y/n…”

It didn’t matter how much he begged for forgiveness, that look in your eyes told him you were done with him for good. For every step he took toward you, you took two steps back. Every time he thought he’d made some sort of progress, that he’d finally gotten somewhat closer to you, you slipped away again, like a shadow, like the wind, like a ray of light, simply refusing to be captured.

To be continued. . .

taglist:

@nikkiordonez12 @travelleratheart101 @chr1sht @theaufanartist @tetesland @world-moon @ratedbangtann @chimchoom @pnkoo @taehyungedd @turnthepageandbeburnt @glitteryouid @jkbangtan7

Sorry for taking this long, cheers! Happy new year