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wherethefireliliesgrow · 5 months

Text

Make Me Happy

Huh Yunjin x Reader

GENRE: fluff

TYPE: One Shot, Long Fic

INSPIRED BY: Make Me Happy-WheeIn

"And Zeus, with his mighty thunder in hand, ruled the sky and Olympus," you read, flipping to the next page of the storybook and showcasing the colorful pictures of Zeus.

It was a Saturday morning, and you were immersed in reading stories for the children at the hospital. As a child psychology major, you relished the opportunity to connect with different children each Saturday. Your love for children made spending time with them while earning extra credit a win-win situation.

"Zeus has a wife named Hera, the Queen of Gods," you continued, pointing to the illustrated photo of Hera on her throne.

"Sometimes Zeus made mistakes, like having other friends. Hera didn't like that, but they still ruled together on Mount Olympus."

“Ms. Y/N?” a cute voice squeaked from the circle of kids in front of you. It was a small girl with short blonde hair and thick glasses.

“Yes, Kayla?” you smiled at her.

“What is M-I-S-T-R-E-S-S-E-S?” Kayla squinted, trying to read from the book you were showing. The rest of the kids leaned forward, curious about the illustrations.

“M-I-S-T-R…” The word clicked in your head, and you looked at the little girl in shock. “Where did you learn that word?”

“There,” Kayla pointed at the bottom corner of the book with her small finger.

You quickly turned the book around to check the illustration. There, at the bottom, was a scribble of words written in black marker.

Friends? More like mistresses. LOL

“What the fuck?” you muttered under your breath.

This was one of the children’s books you brought from your department’s lounge, where they keep all materials used in class.

A chorus of oohs broke out around you at the sound of your mild exclamation.

“I mean, what the fuzz?” you hastily changed your choice of words, hoping the hospital staff didn’t hear what you just said. “What the fuzzballs.”

Luckily, the children giggled at that, immediately distracted when a boy named Jake decided to share the story about how he swallowed his cat’s fuzzballs and ended up in the hospital.

The storybook took you longer to finish reading as you made sure to check every page before showing the kids the illustrations. Thankfully, there wasn’t any more writing in the rest of the book. You covered the words with a Post-It before returning it to the lounge.

It happened again after a few weeks. You were reading a Dora the Explorer book to the children, and there it was, in the smack middle of the book, a sentence scribbled in the same scrawly, obnoxiously bolded handwriting.

“Can you find the chocolate tree?” you read before staring at the page in horror.

This chick is blind, FR.

The kids whispered, trying to understand what the handwriting meant.

“C-H-I-C-K…chick!” Carter, a red-haired boy, exclaimed loudly, proud of himself for being able to read it.

“There aren’t any chickens in Dora,” Kayla chastised him, shaking her head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“There is too,” he huffed, pressing a smudgy finger onto the page. “It says here! C-H-I-C-K. Chick.”

“Well, there’s only the big red hen. No chicks,” Kayla insisted, standing up to grab the book from your hands. The situation was about to get worse in a few seconds as you saw Carter’s face redden in frustration.

“Okay! That’s enough story time for today,” you quickly stood up, snapping the book shut. “Who wants to play Monopoly?”

“ME! ME! ME!” The kids screamed in excitement, forgetting the book altogether. It was a relief that kids forget about things so easily.

You, on the other hand, did not forget about this.

“Someone keeps leaving nasty comments in the children's books,” you huffed, dropping the Dora book in front of your best friend, Chaeryeong.

You had found her sitting in front of one of the long tables, peacefully eating her lunch in your department’s lounge. The room was slightly crowded, filled with students doing their projects or chatting with each other before classes.

Narrowing her eyes at your rude entrance, Chaeryeong slowly took off her headphones and dropped her chopsticks.

“No hello beautiful?” she asked, rolling her eyes playfully. “Why are you reading children's books anyway? Are you seven years old or something?”

“I’m reading them for the kids at the hospital,” you said impatiently, flipping open to the page where the messy handwriting was located.

“See? This person keeps writing in these books! The kids keep reading them out!”

“This chick blind, for real?” Chaeryeong snickered after reading it aloud. “Well, this person has a good point. Dora IS blind as fuck.”

You huffed, annoyed at how unserious the raven-haired girl was. But before you could open your mouth, a soft chuckle came from the table next to yours. You turned your head to come face to face with the queen bee and the captain of the volleyball team, Huh Yunjin. She grinned at you as she casually leaned on her elbows, not hiding the fact that she was eavesdropping on your conversation as the rest of her friends were engrossed in another conversation.

“See? Even Yunjin unnie agrees,” Chaeryeong said, slyly bringing Yunjin into the conversation.

She knew about your little crush on the captain ever since freshman year. You were just too chicken to strike up a conversation with her, and she was flirty by default, breaking hearts left and right. You just didn’t want to go through the heartbreak, after seeing so many girls crying in the bathroom over her.

Your eyes met Yunjin’s chocolate ones, her bright gaze felt like it was penetrating your soul. People weren’t kidding about her beauty; she really was a sight to look at. You felt your face flush as her gaze never left yours.

“Yeah, she definitely needs to get herself some glasses,” Yunjin pushed her headband a bit higher to keep her orange hair out of her face. “But I support an unbothered queen.”

Yunjin let out a little laugh, her nose scrunching adorably. You couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by the way her full lips pulled back to show her glistening white teeth.

“Stop being gay,” Chaeryeong whispered, nudging you with her legs to wake you out of the trance.

Huffing in embarrassment and annoyance, you grabbed the Dora book and the rest of your stuff and started to put them into your bag.

“Where are you going?” Chaeryeong asked.

You could see the volleyball captain staring at you from the corner of your eye, and your ears flushed a deeper red.

“I’m going to find someone who understands how serious this situation is,” you ignored the soft snickers coming from both of the girls and turned around to walk out of the lounge.

“Let me know if you found someone who managed to get that chick a pair of glasses,” Chaeryeong called from behind you, laughter in her voice.

Cute. That was the first thing Yunjin thought when she saw you during the freshman orientation.

She was there to recruit people into the volleyball team when she noticed you, sitting in the second row, eyes barely open, mouth slightly agape as a few wisps of hair fell into your face when you started to doze off.

Ignoring the knowing looks of her teammates, she intentionally tried to get close to you, all but failing drastically. She ended up recruiting all of your close friends into the volleyball team, all but you. You were definitely not a land animal; that was all that Yunjin could say after watching you fall face-first onto the ground at any given chance.

But at least her efforts weren’t all gone to waste. Having recruited Chaeryeong and your roommate Yeji onto the team meant that she could see you in the bleachers in every game and often see you swing by during practice. Her delusional self convinced her that you were there to see her, but deep down she knew that you never even spared her a second glance.

Like today, you had once again rushed away from her as if she was the most menacing thing in the room, and you wanted nothing but to end the conversation with her. Was she really this scary? Or had you found out about her obsession with you?

“You should try to talk to her more, you know?” Chaeryeong said, raising her eyebrows as she watched her captain gaze after you leaving the room.

“Huh?” Yunjin quickly composed herself, leaning back in her chair. “With who?”

“Y/N. I know you like her.” The raven-haired girl said with a grin. “And I approve.”

“Pfft, I don’t even know her that well.” Yunjin whispered, lowering her voice to make sure her friends didn’t hear this conversation.

“I’m not Dora. I see how you look at her,” Chaeryeong pushed.

“I—I don’t look at her differently.”

Yunjin stood her ground, staring at Chaeryeong, ready to deny everything that came out of the younger girl’s mouth. But Chaeryeong wasn’t intimidated, shrugging nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“She finds your jokes in the books funny. Don’t let her reaction fool you.”

Laughing at Yunjin’s expression, Chaeryeon added, “I know your ugly handwriting.”

With that, the slender girl slipped her bag onto her shoulder and stood up, smiling mischievously at the blushing captain in front of her.

“Can’t believe it took you two years to make a move.”

Unconvincingly as it sounded, it really started with boredom.

Yunjin was alone in the student lounge last semester, skipping her least favorite class from Professor “Dead-Eye” Yoo and taking the liberty of finally having some alone time. Yunjin knew she was quite popular, being the captain and all, but sometimes she just wanted to go back to being that shy gamer girl she once was.

The lounge was deserted, and Yunjin flopped onto the sofa she sometimes saw you sitting on in the far-right corner. A couple of bookshelves were situated next to the sofa, completely filled with children’s books.

Scrunching her eyes in confusion about why there were so many books for kids when it was a university department lounge, Yunjin decided not to question it and got to read to kill time. But being attentive was not her strongest trait, so she soon relented to her immaturity and boredom.

Grabbing a sharpie from her bag, she started to leave dumb comments here and there in different books, as if she was the biggest book reviewer in the world. It was an immature and stupid thing to do, she knows. But at least it somehow managed to catch your attention, albeit months later.

God must’ve taken pity on her, watching her suffer through countless blind dates that her friends had arranged her to through her first two years of college, finally giving her the chance to know you better.

It was a few days after her encounter with you at the lounge with Chaeryeong, and she found you scribbling down in a brown notebook on the sofa next to the bookshelves again, this time alone. Deciding to brave herself just once, she took her breath and mustered all of her confidence before making her way towards you and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. She was going to take a chance and take Chaeyeong’s words as advice.

“Hey Y/N.” Yunjin gave you a boyish charming grin, her orange hair tousled perfectly across her leather jacket. She was effortlessly cool, and her sudden close proximity made your face heat up.

“Uh, hi, Yunjin-ssi.” You quickly bowed in respect.

“Please drop the honorifics.” The captain waved her hand, giving you a wink. “Just Yunjin is fine.”

You nodded, eyes flittering from Yunjin’s mesmerizing large ones to the record book in your hand. Unsure of what to do, you decided to awkwardly continue writing.

“What are you doing?” Yunjin slightly leaned towards you, her vanilla perfume invading your senses.

“Um... I-” You shook your head to gather your thoughts, “I’m keeping track of the books that were written on. We would have to replace them.”

“Ahh… the Dora book?”

“Yeah. I also found a new one this week, in the Ice Age books.”

“Really? What did it say?” Yunjin asked, trying to keep her face casual.

“It simply just wrote LIA next to Sid’s face.” You said, biting your lip to hold in your smile.

Yunjin, on the other hand, let out a booming laugh, enjoying the joke way too much.

“I’ll let Lia know she’s famous.” Yunjin said, after taking a few minutes to finally come down from her laughter.

Even though she was the one who wrote it, she still found it funny that her roommate, Lia, looked exactly like Sid the sloth when she was sleeping.

Trying to hide your grin, you said, “It’s not funny. The kids keep reading out the comments.”

The sight of your smiling made Yunjin’s heart soar. She was proud of herself for succeeding in making you smile, despite you not knowing it was her who left the comments. With this affirmation, Yunjin continued to make jokes with you as you talked for a bit. She would do anything to charm you, and she already had a plan hatched in her brain, something to do with your notebook.

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N.” The captain squeezed your hand as she saw her friends calling for her.

You were disappointed to see her go, but you knew that she had better things to do than talk to you. She was, after all, one of the most popular and busiest students in your major.

“See you.” You muttered, ears red at the feeling of her hand on yours.

The captain walked towards the door, before turning back and raising her hand as a goodbye in a goofy boyish way that made your heart flutter.

It happened again, but this time, it was in your record book. Again, in obnoxiously bolded and capitalized letters, the mystery person managed to annoy the hell out of you, but you couldn’t help but find a bit of amusement in them.

HI :)

They had written this in the smack middle of a new page in your notebook, wasting the entire page. Deciding to write back for the first time, you took out your pen and wrote a small line under their loud greeting.

Don’t write in my notebook :)

Thinking this was able to stop the culprit from writing anything else, you shut the book satisfied. Oh, how wrong you were.

The next day, you found a light pink post-it stuck on top of the original page.

BUT I WANT TO BE FRIENDS :(

Annoyed at the culprit, but also at yourself for finding them cute for using a post-it instead of just writing on your book.

No.

You wrote back, slightly hesitating before slamming shut the notebook altogether. Although intrigued and wanting to know who was behind the writing, it was probably best that you don’t encourage them.

“Getting ready to dive deep into another children’s book of yours?” A familiar voice broke you out of your thoughts.

Your heart couldn't help but lurch at the sight of the orange-haired captain smiling at you, her nose scrunched adorably.

“Yeah, any recommendations? I know you love these books.” You teased back, already comfortable with her presence.

Despite not really getting the chance to talk to her that much, she had this aura that made you feel calm and relaxed, as if you could trust her with anything.

“I’ll recommend one only if you read it to me.” Yunjin flirted easily, giving you a charming grin and wink.

Caught off guard at her response, your face turned a slight shade of pink. “I-”

“I’m just kidding, Y/N.” The taller girl laughed at your flustered state. “I used to read ‘The Jungle Book’ to my sister when she was a kid, and she loved it. Maybe the kids at the hospital would love it too.”

"You have a younger sister?” You asked. This was new information to you, but then again, you and Yunjin never really talked before this semester.

“Yeah, we have a really big age difference though. She’s 10 years younger than me.” Yunjin’s eyes glinted at the mention of her sister.

“She must be really happy to have you as a sister.”

“I hope so." Yunjin said with a sad smile, “I haven’t seen her in a couple of years. She’s still in the US with the rest of my family.”

“It must’ve been hard for you to move here all alone.” You hesitantly reached out your hand to squeeze the Captain’s forearm in comfort.

She gave you a grin at your touch, and your heart fluttered at how her eyes seem to twinkle whenever she met yours.

“I’m fine now.” She said, putting her other hand on top of yours. “I made a lot of friends, and also, I got the chance to meet you.”

The flirty queen-bee you knew was back. You cleared your throat to shake off the nerves she managed to give you and pulled back from the trance she pulled you into.

Quickly checking your watch as an excuse to avoid looking into her eyes again, you noticed it was almost five p.m., the time Chaeryeon left for practice.

“Don’t you have practice?” You asked.

“Nope.” Yunjin made a pop sound at the P, which you found adorable. “We have a game next week, so I gave the girls a two-day break.”

“You’ll be watching us, right?” She asked, her eyes hopeful.

You nodded, “I never missed a game. I’m Chaeryeon’s and Yeji’s number one fan.” You grinned, proud of yourself.

Yunjin merely pouted at this, “You should cheer for me sometime. I’m playing too, you know.” She nudged you.

You laughed, trying to shake off your nervousness at her blatant flirting. “You already have a lot of fangirls.”

Yunjin whined, begging, “I don’t know them, but I know you. None of my friends wear my number because they’re on the court with me.“

“I’ll think about it.“ you laughed at her antics. Although she was a year older than you, she managed to act like a little kid sometimes.

After talking (more like flirting on Yunjin’s side) for another while, Yunjin left to go to her part-time job at the diner, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The feeling she gave you messed up your thoughts, and you were worried that your old crush on her will be reignited.

She was just friendly. She thought of you as a friend. You convinced yourself. You needed to see her as a friend too, before you get your heart broken.

“Maybe I need other friends than Yunjin.“ you muttered to yourself before opening the notebook once more.

No.

You crossed out the word and wrote.

Fine. What’s your name?

Turns out, the person behind the obnoxious block letters was worth talking to. You’ve been texting the mysterious person for the past few weeks, and they managed to entertain you and connect on a deeper level. Never getting a reply to their name, only with a doodle of a snake, you exchanged numbers without knowing each other's names, and it was better like that. To talk about your day anonymously.

You were, however, curious about the person behind the texts and writing. They were considerate, easy to talk to, and extremely funny. You honestly felt that you could be really good friends with them. From books to life goals, you could talk to them about anything and everything.

It was a bit unnerving how someone in your major knew all this about you, but at the same time, you felt that they were someone you could trust, and they felt the same way about you after sharing some of their family problems with you.

You noticed you were developing a sort of attachment to this person, as if they were your soulmate. You found yourself instantly texting back whenever the snake contact popped up on your phone, and when you were texting, you were re-reading your past conversations. They were a great way for you to get Yunjin off your mind, which you found to get harder every time she stopped by to say hello.

“You’re late, Shin.” Chaewon, the co-captain of the volleyball team, chastised a wind-swept Yuna as she slammed open the door to the locker room and hurried to change into her team uniform.

Yuna was the newest addition to the team and was also the cousin of Y/N. (As soon as Yunjin heard of this, she immediately treated Yuna with patience and additional care, not that she liked you or anything, just her showing affection to her juniors).

The volleyball team was getting ready for the final match before the semi-finals. They had an away game with a nearby school, and Yuna, being Yuna, had overslept and missed the bus to the game. Yuna quickly bowed her head in apology, and Chaewon simply patted her head in assurance and ushered everyone to warm up.

“What took you so long?” Yeji asked, “I thought Y/N said she would drive you instead.”

"She did. But it took her half an hour to get ready because she was busy giggling at her phone like a love-sick schoolgirl.” Yuna said, exasperation in her voice.

At that, Chaeryeon, who was standing near the two girls tying her hair, let out a laugh. “Yeah, she’s been doing that pretty often. She must have a crush or something.”

“You think so?” Eunchae, one of the tallest yet youngest players, chimed in, exposing the fact that she was eavesdropping.

“That’s new; I thought she would just end up being a single woman and adopt all of the kids in the hospital.” Yeji mused, happy that her roommate is finally interested in someone. Throughout the two years she lived with you, you seemed to show zero interest in love.

“Must be nice to be liked by unnie.” Eunchae said dreamily, causing the rest of the girls around her to fake gag and give a round of protest.

“Wish it was me instead.”

“Who are you dreaming about dating?” Yunjin suddenly appeared, wrapping her hands around the tall girl. “My baby manchae is off limits until she’s 40.”

The captain had returned from a quick discussion with their coach and had gone into the locker room to usher the girls out for warm-up.

“40? Do you want me to die single?” Eunchae furrowed her brows and pouted, “And besides, we were talking about Y/N unnie’s love life, not mine.“

“Y/N? What about Y/N?” Yunjin tried to ask nonchalantly, leading the girls out of the locker room.

“She has a crush on someone.” Chaeryeon said slyly, paying close attention to Yunjin’s reaction.

The orange-haired girl kept her face composed, but in reality, her heart was beating at the thought of you liking someone, that wasn’t her. A sense of hollowness and jealousy crept into her skin.

“That’s nice. Do you know who?”

The girls shrugged, and Yunjin decided not to push anymore. The way Chaeryeon looked at her was obvious enough to blow off her cover and reveal her affection towards you, and she was not keen on letting others know.

Putting on a smile so bright that could make any of the people in the crowd swoon, Yunjin tried to push back her thoughts and jealousy, waving to the people in the stand as the team entered the court.

Cheers came from all around her, cheering her name every time she sent the ball flying at deadly speed toward her rivals. She wasn’t called the Ace of SNU for nothing. Yet, as she scanned the crowds after every point earned, she hoped you would also be there yelling her name.

“Good game.” Chaeryeon whispered in Yunjin’s ear as they gathered together in a group hug to celebrate another victory.

The crowds were wild around them, chanting their names as they celebrated their ticket to the semi-finals.

“But you better step up your other game before it’s too late, captain.” The raven-haired girl gave Yunjin a grin before sauntering off to the stands, where you were hugging Yeji in celebration.

You were wearing Chaeryeon’s spare uniform, proudly displaying the Lee on your back, while waving a self-made Yeji and Yuna flag. You looked so cute with your hair in a ponytail, with two lines of blue drawn horizontally across your cheeks to represent SNU.

At that moment, Yunjin wished nothing more than to see you wearing her uniform instead.

She better step up her game.

So…have you ever been in love before?

You were late at night studying in the school library a few days after the game when your phone buzzed, indicating a text message. It was from your mystery friend.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at their sudden question, before typing out a quick response.

No, I don’t think so. Have you?

As their text bubble indicated typing, a full minute passed before their response came through.

No.

Followed by another long pause.

But I wish I did.

Biting your lip in thought, you were unsure of what to make of this sudden confession from your friend. You were developing an attachment to them, which seemed foolish when you didn't even know what they looked like, let alone their name.

It was truly pathetic; the two people in college for whom you had feelings were the queen bee of the school, with a long line of admirers, and the other was some random faceless stranger about whom you knew everything and nothing.

What got you thinking about this? You typed back.

A girl. But she has feelings for someone else.

So your little mystery friend does have someone on their mind. You tried to push down your disappointment and the slight burn of rejection as you replied.

Have you tried telling her how you feel about her?

No, I would probably scare her off or something.

I’m sure you won’t.

It took them another five minutes before they finally responded back.

What about you? Is there anyone on your mind?

Yunjin, the fiery-haired girl, instantly came to mind. Recent interactions with her had given the impression of growing closeness. She took the time to chat with you in the student lounge, held your bag, walked you back to your dorm after study sessions, and even brought treats from the diner when her shift ended. Though it felt like more to you, the realization struck that she viewed you simply as a friend.

Yeah, this girl. But she sees me as a friend.

Yunjin's heart skipped a beat upon reading your reply. It confirmed Chaeryeon's statement – you had your eyes set on someone else. She pondered the possibilities, considering potential candidates. Was it the charming Shin Ryujin from the softball team? Perhaps someone from the hospital where you volunteered? Or could it be one of your close friends, like Chaeryeon or Yeji? The uncertainty left Yunjin feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Did you tell them how you feel?

No, I would probably scare them off or something.

Despite her heartbreak, your text made her smile a bit. There you were again, teasing her by copying her sentence.

I’m sure you won’t, pretty girl.

How do you know if I’m pretty or not?

I just do.

You couldn’t help but blush at their compliment. They always managed to say something earnestly that made your heart flutter, similar to the way Yunjin always seemed to have an effect on you.

You should take this confidence and confess to the girl you like before it’s too late. What’s there to lose?

You have a valid point…

I’ll work on confessing to them before the end of the year, but only if you be my wingwoman.

Your wingwoman? How? I don’t know anything about them.

Just share with me the little things you like as advice.

Deal.

So…better start listing.

Hmm, I’d say start with flowers.

Oh, and little notes are pretty cute, too.

"The Ultimate Checklist to How to Get That Girl? Seriously?" Chaewon read over Yunjin's shoulder incredulously.

Flushing a deep red, the captain quickly slammed shut her notebook and pushed the short-haired girl away.

"Stop snooping!"

"You know you can just ask her out, right? Y/N." The shorter girl reached over to snatch the book from Yunjin, quickly scanning over the checklists.

Yunjin had managed to devise a checklist incorporating all the things you mentioned in your previous text conversations with her about your preference as her 'wingwoman’. She had compiled recommendations on what someone should do to win over someone's heart, hoping to win over yours.

"I can't. She likes someone else." Yunjin said defeatedly, her shoulders sagging.

"Who can resist the Huh Yunjin charms? I'm pretty sure everyone would love to date you." Chaewon snorted, amused by how her seemingly always confident friend was so hung up on you. This was a first.

"Not Y/N."

Although teasing her friends was in her DNA, Chaewon couldn't help but feel bad for her friend. Yunjin looked lost (kind of like a kicked puppy, but she wasn't going to say that to her face), and as co-captain of the team, it was a rule that she would need to support their captain whenever they needed help.

"Find, I'll help you." Chaewon sighed, looking at the long list and preparing herself mentally. It was going to be a long few months.

"Let me call the girls for backup."

“Another gift from your secret admirer?” Yeji teased when she saw you enter the shared dorm with a tray of hot coffee.

You had just returned from the library, preparing for your final exams, and found yet another gift waiting in front of your door.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but your ears betrayed you by reddening. “There’s one for you.”

Yeji jumped up in excitement and went straight for the coffee, sighing contentedly as she sipped on it. “I’d just date them already.”

You had been receiving these little gifts for the past few weeks, and it was driving you crazy. Initially sweet, the mystery person never revealed themselves, making you suspicious of everyone. Additionally, you were concerned about how much they were spending on you. Although seemingly insignificant, the little gifts added up.

The first gift was a single rose and a typed note in front of your dorm room, a bit like a ransom note. The note included a cheesy pick-up line that you found endearing, despite yourself. Soon after came cute accessories, a new hair tie, and even a cute hippo plushie. Your admirer seemed to know a lot about you, even the things you lost.

They gifted you things you had listed out to your mystery friend. Could your admirer and your friend possibly be the same person?

“Oh, by the way, Yunjin and the team are coming over to discuss our strategies for the championship game, is that okay?” Yeji mentioned casually, trying to hide her grin.

Chaewon had called her earlier, letting her in on Yunjin’s huge crush on you and the plan to sweep you off your feet.

Panic filled your eyes as you looked up from your phone. You were still dressed in your "bum outfit," as Yeji would call it, consisting of old sweatpants and an oversized Nike hoodie – definitely not presentable.

“What? When?” You quickly surveyed the room, noticing a small pile of clothes and rushing to stuff them in the laundry basket.

“In about…”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Now.”

At that moment, you pulled your hair out of its messy bun and ran your fingers through it in a rush. Leave it to Yeji to embarrass you in front of Yunjin.

Before Yeji could open the door, it was slammed open, revealing a snow-covered Chaeryeon with her cheshire grin, followed by Chaewon, Lia, Yuna, and Yunjin. Your eyes met hers, and you got lost once again in her warm brown hues.

She looked particularly good today, with her fiery orange hair tucked into a gray woolen hat and dressed in a red leather jacket. She gave you a toothy smile before closing the door behind her.

“Hey, stranger, it’s been a while,” Yunjin said, pulling you into a hug, engulfing you in her sweet lavender perfume. “I missed you.”

You immediately blushed at this, still not used to her flirty nature.

“We had lunch together last Saturday.”

“Yeah, three days is way too long,” she sighed dramatically, her arms still wrapped around your shoulders. Her eyes scanned your features, as if she was trying to memorize every freckle and blemish.

“If you two are done flirting, we would like to start discussing tactics,” Chaewon said, her lips curled into a teasing smile as she saw Yunjin immediately pull her arm off of yours and turn beet red in embarrassment.

“I…” Yunjin muttered, before giving up coming up with an explanation and plopped down onto the sofa.

You busied yourself with schoolwork as the girls squeezed into the makeshift living room and focused on their strategy plan for the upcoming games. You watched them with adoration; it wasn’t often that you saw them together except for their games, and you loved how sweet their dynamic was. Chaewon was the one who kept everyone focused, Lia and Yeji were the encouraging ones, and Yunjin was the planner. She led the gameplays and tactics, ensuring everything was on track. The older girls also babied Yuna and Chaeryeon, making sure they understood everything.

You didn’t know Chaewon and Lia that well; they were Yunjin’s friends. Still, you could tell that they were just as sweet and caring as the captain was. However, you couldn’t help but think of the comment your mystery friend left in the Ice Age book whenever you looked at Lia. She did look a bit like a sloth, but the cutest one ever.

Hence, you decided to text your mystery friend.

Lia does kind of look like a sloth. But cuter.

As you sent out the text, a small buzz came from the living room.

Cuter as in your type?

No. But you did her dirty by writing her name next to Sid.

Another buzz. You furrowed your brows and looked toward the direction of the living room.

Who IS your type then?

Someone funny, I guess. Goofy but smart.

Buzz. It felt too coincidental. Your palms started sweating at the thought that you might finally discover who was behind those texts that accompanied you through long nights and motivated you.

Hmm…is there someone like that in our school?

Yeah, there is.

As soon as you sent out a text, another buzz came from the living room. At that moment, you were convinced that your friend was one of the girls in the room.

Is it the person you mentioned you liked?

You silently leaned forward on your bed to peek at the girls obscured by the sofa, lying on their stomachs in front of a strategy board. You froze at the sight of Yunjin biting her full lip and looking at her phone, engrossed in whatever she was reading. The rest of the girls were talking with each other, none of them looking at their phones.

Could it possibly be the orange-haired girl all along? The girl you've been texting about was the one receiving your texts. If they were Yunjin, then she would possibly be the one sending you your gifts.

The pounding in your heart was so loud, engulfing you in erratic thumps. You couldn’t even hear the girls talking; all you could focus on was the possibility that Yunjin was the person behind the texts.

Deciding to leap in faith just this once, you texted back.

Yes. The captain of the volleyball team, do you know her?

Another buzz followed by the screen of Yunjin’s phone was enough to prove that she was indeed the person all along. Eyes scanning through the sentence you sent to her, Yunjin’s brown eyes widened, and she immediately threw her phone to the side, covering her face with her arms. She let out a muffled scream and kicked her legs in excitement, startling the rest of the girls.

You couldn't help but laugh at her adorableness. Putting on your headphones, you pretended to be studying while trying to calm your erratic heart. Muffled shouts and laughter could be heard from the girls, probably picking on their captain.

For the first time in her life, it seemed that fate had taken favor in Yunjin. Having dedicated all of her time to school and volleyball, she never had the privilege of starting a relationship with someone. Volleyball itself took up most of her time, with her parents and her personal coach insisting on her becoming the best player in the league and eventually joining the national team of South Korea. She wasn’t unhappy with her life, but she wouldn’t call herself happy.

Sure, her friends set her up on several blind dates, but she never liked them enough to want something more. She was only interested in being the best at volleyball and being the best captain for the girls, nothing more.

That was, until, she met you.

She was enamored by you right from the start, with your shy smile and soft features. She wanted nothing more than to get to know you. After finally getting the chance to talk to you after two years, she had fallen for you, deep. All those late-night talks through text made her understand that you were more than a mere crush, more than any of the girls on those blind dates. The way you viewed the world made her want to become something more to you. She wanted to be included in your world.

Life started to mean more than just volleyball, and she noticed that you made her happy, actually happy.

She hoped that you would give her the chance to do the same for you. Now, with the revelation that the person she worried so much about you liking was her, she was beyond the moon. She just hoped you wouldn’t be disappointed that she was the one behind the texts.

It was the Saturday after the eventful day, and Yunjin was nervous. She blamed it on the finals game they had tomorrow, but in reality, it was the first time she was alone with you after knowing that you liked her.

After running to you during her lunch break from her shift at the diner two months ago, she had established a weekly routine of getting lunch with you every Saturday. The diner she worked at was near the hospital she volunteered at, so grabbing lunch together before visiting the kids was another highlight of your week.

"Did something happen?" You asked as you sat across the captain.

You had arrived at the booth a while ago, and the captain hadn’t said much but to order. She was fidgeting with the straw of her iced coffee, bending it over repeatedly as she looked at anywhere but you.

"What? No!" Yunjin’s eyes flitted to yours, before quickly looking away again.

"Nothing’s wrong."

"Then how come you’re avoiding me?" You asked, slightly pouting.

Yunjin nearly kissed you on the spot at the sight of you pouting cutely.

She had been refusing to meet your eyes because she knew that the second she did, all defenses would fall, and she would just confess her love to you. It has been like that for the last few days, ever since she knew that you liked her back; she wanted nothing more than to have you in her arms. But she hadn’t thought of a plan on how to ask you out yet; she also had to confess to you that she was the one behind the texts. This scared her, worried that you would hate her for lying to you about not knowing who you were.

"I-I’m not." Yunjin stuttered, still refusing to look at you in the eye.

Before you could reply, the waitress brought over your food. You always got the same thing, blueberry pancakes with scrambled eggs on the side, while Yunjin always had her protein lunch filled with eggs, chicken, and tofu. It didn’t really look good, but Yunjin made sure her body was in the best shape for volleyball.

Today’s meal was slightly different. The waitress had also brought in a plate with two gingerbread cookies, both with cute red buttons and frosty smiles.

"We give out gingerbread cookies to our customers every year around Christmas time," the waitress explained, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "Enjoy!"

Yunjin watched you from the corner of her eyes as you excitedly took a few photos of the cookies.

"Look Yunjinnie, they’re holding hands!"

Yunjin wished she could hold hands with you.

"This one looks more like you." You giggled, moving the plate forward to show her.

The restaurant workers seemingly did not put their heart into decoration because the one you insisted that looked like Yunjin had lopsided eyes and a way out of proportion mouth, so wide that it went higher than the eyes.

"Are you saying I look ugly?" She said, pretending to be offended.

"What? No!" You interjected, blushing a deep red and pulling back the plate to inspect the cookies. "I meant that you always have a big smile like this, meeting your eyes."

That’s because I only smile like this when I’m with you, Yunjin thought.

"Here, try one." You broke the cookies apart and raised one of the cookies towards Yunjin’s face.

"I can’t. I have to stay in shape for tomorrow's game." Yunjin was taken aback at your forwardness. She was normally the one flirting, and you were the shy one. It seems that the roles have reversed today.

"C’mon. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt." You wheedled. "Please?"

Yunjin’s eyes finally met yours. Big mistake.

Your eyes, every so bright, were staring at her pleadingly, with a hint of something that Yunjin couldn't quite put a finger on. Was it affection? Adoration?

Nevertheless, the captain immediately gave in and took a bite of the cookie in your hands. She would always do anything for you.

"It’s…It’s good." Yunjin managed to say, her gaze still locked with yours.

You let out a satisfied grin and brought the same cookie to your lips, pausing slightly before taking a bite.

Yunjin’s brain went into a full system shutdown. YOU JUST ATE THE COOKIE SHE HAD. IT WAS AN INDIRECT KISS. I REPEAT. INDIRECT KISS.

“Mhmmm… It’s so good. Tastes like Christmas.” You said, finally breaking eye contact and looking at the rest of the cookies in front of you.

“It’s almost the end of the year.” You said softly, before looking up again at the flustered girl.

End of the year.

Yunjin’s heart went into rapid speed, and her blood went cold. Could you have possibly known that she was the one texting you? How else would you know the importance of the end of the year to her? She had promised you that she would confess to her crush before the end of the year if only you would become her wingwoman.

Shaking her head slightly to push out the possibility, she tried to forget about her ‘delusions’. You didn’t know. There was no way.

Thankfully, you changed the topic to her games tomorrow, saving her from embarrassing herself.

“Will you be at the game tomorrow?” Yunjin asked as she walked you to the hospital after lunch.

“Of course.” You said, gently holding onto her arm to keep yourself from slipping on the icy roads. (Yunjin’s heart still stuttered whenever you did that).

“I never miss a game, remember?”

“Will you-Will you be cheering for me?” Yunjin asked hesitantly.

“Hmm? I always cheer for you girls, pabo.” You laughed, nudging the taller girl.

“No, I mean,” Yunjin looked at your hands clutching tightly on her arm. Deciding to brave herself for the first time today, she asked, “Will you wear my number?”

She watched as your cheeks turn pink at her words.

“I don’t know…you have quite a lot of fangirls already.” You answered, hitting both of you with déjà vu.

“But none of them are you.” The orange-haired girl stopped walking, gently pulling you around to look at her.

To say you were in deep was an understatement. You had fallen hard for the captain, in love even. Her beauty and confidence were what had drawn you to her at first, but after getting to really know her through those texts, you had started to fall in love with her. Her mind, the way she thought, and her endless patience… she was something that was too good to be true.

“What are you trying to say?” You asked, searching her eyes for any hint of hesitation. You found none, only determination and softness in those honey-brown hues.

“I’m saying…” Yunjin paused, composing herself before she stared back into your eyes, “I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

“And it would be nice if I can take you out on a date.” She continued, her eyes gleaming hopefully.

“But only if you want to.” She hastily added.

You laughed at the last sentence. She was always so considerate, worried that she would be doing something without your consent. And that was what you loved about her.

“I would love to.” You said, before standing on your tiptoes to kiss the tip of her frozen nose. Yunjin froze at the feeling of your soft lips on her skin.

“But only if you win the game tomorrow.”

Yunjin let out a sigh of relief before gently wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. All those sleepless nights dreaming of you were worth it.

“Easy.”

As the captain got ready for bed, a familiar buzz came from her phone. It was from you.

I better see your jersey in front of my door tomorrow, Huh Yunjin.

Yunjin let out a scream, scaring Lia, who was already passed out, and causing her to fall off her own bed.

"What the hell?" Lia groaned from the floor, looking up at her roommate.

"She knows it’s me. And she’s okay with it!" Yunjin said, giggling like a schoolgirl and dancing around. "She likes me back!"

Sighing, Lia slowly dragged herself up from the floor and laid horizontally back on her bed, too tired to crawl back under the covers.

"Go to bed, Yunjin."

Giggling to herself, the captain quickly texted you goodnight, receiving another sweet message from you.

As she went to turn off the lights, she looked at her roommate, sleeping with her mouth open and dressed in her greenish-grey fuzzy pajamas.

Lia did indeed look like a sloth. A cute one.

“Why does Yunjin-unnie have a sunburn?” Eunchae whispered, not so quietly.

“That’s not a sunburn, that’s the glow of love, manchae.” Yeji laughed, patting the taller girl’s head affectionately.

“Love? What?” Eunchae furrowed her brows, clearly out of the loop.

"Someone in the stands is rocking her jersey," Chaeryeon added, grinning mischievously, despite Yunjin shooting her a disapproving look as they continued warming up for the game.

“One-third of the crowd is wearing her number,” Eunchae whined, scanning the crowd again for Yunjin’s possible lover.

You waved shyly to the girls (mostly to Yunjin) as you moved to sit on the bleachers with your friends. You had found a box containing Yunjin’s jersey and a light blue bandana, along with a single rose in front of your dorm room when you woke up in the morning.

You had put on the jersey and decided to tie your hair with the silky bandana, and adding a dash of sparkling highlighter. You wanted to look your best for the captain.

Unable to resist herself, Yunjin made her way towards the railings near the bleachers, ignoring the teasing hoots coming from her members. You walked down a few levels to meet her at the other side of the railing.

“Hi,” she said cutely, her eyes sparkling in happiness as she checked you out. You looked so good in her jersey.

“Hi, Yunjinnie.”

“You look good.” She bit her lip and reached over to hold your hands in hers.

“You better win this game, Yunjin. I’m looking forward to our date.”

“Of course. I play better when I’m in a good mood.” Yunjin leaned over and pressed her lips on your forehead.

“And you make me happy.”

“Aw man...” Eunchae said sadly, watching her captain and you cuddling up together. “I wanted to date Y/N-unnie.”

“You’re too young for dating, Hong Eunchae.” The rest of the girls said in unison, before grabbing the maknae away from the scene.

It's a long one!

A bit of fluff for Christmas :)

Thoughts?

#huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #gxg #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #wlw #kpop #kpop fic #le sserafim x you #le sserafim x y/n #fluff oneshot #fem reader #huh jennifer #wherethefireliliesgrow #long reads

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lorarri · 24 days

Text

★ . . . 🇰🇷 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 , 𝐓𝐘𝟐𝟐

summary , the princess of kpop is on hiatus japan with a special someone but people are in denial until they publicly confirm it

pairing , yuki tsunoda x fem! kpop idol! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | f1 masterlist | f1 grid masterlist

BABY

hey bby just booked the flight to japan

YUKI BBY

okie bby can't wait to see you

cuz dear god are the boys annoying me

BABY

what happened bae?

YUKI BBY

they were all just making fun of me for being "single" and not having dating rumors

BABY

dw bae we are gonna shut them up in a bit

YUKI BBY

okay baby

can't wait to see you

love you

yourinstagram

liked by yukitsunoda0511 landonorris 87,398,268 others

yourinstagram time I tokyo

view comments

user UMMM SLIDE 3?!??!

user brb I'm gonna sleep on the highway tonight

pierregasly wonder who that is

user RUE WHEN WAS THIS

user pierre if you know something THEN PLEASE FUCKING SHARE WITH THE CLASS PLEASE

user who tf is he

user me as a f1 x kpop girly is laughing rn

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yukitsunoda0511 . 3hrs ago

seen by pierregasly yourinstagram 76,898,241 others

danielricciardo replied to your story!

why was I not informed there was a mrs tsunoda!?!??!

landonorris replied to your story!

simp

maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

double date soon?

pierregasly replied to your story!

when we were together you never bought me dinner yuki

youragency and yourinstagram . 1hrs ago

seen by landonorris yukitsunoda0511 32,480,563 others

─ requested by . . .

anon ─ here' a promot for S.Korea!S.Korea:Couple: Yuki x KpopPrincess!YNFace Claim: Wheein from MamamooStoryline:Yuki is being teased by a few of the drivers for staying single or having no dating rumor at all! And yuki shrugs them off. But during the summer break suddenly Dispatch/Koreaboo release an article stating that YN the princess of kpop was seen in Japan having fun during her hiatus and the photo shows YN and badly hidden Yuki Tsunoda having fun at a kartinh circuit with friendsSo, at first alot of YN and YT fans ignore dispatch's claims that the kpop super star and f1 driver are dating.But jokes on the fans because during thw remaining days of the summer break YN and YT starting posting and their friends start commenting on the posts like "Like heeey where's my invitation to get ice cream 🧐" (but yn and yuki dont confirm the relationship yet!!)Slowly a few fans start wondering if thw rumors are really true….but alooot of people still don't believe that YN and Yuki are together! That is until YN debuts in the paddock on the first race after summer break! And Yuki is holding YN at the waist as they walk towards the AT hospitality!So everyone is SHOCK!!! And Pierre is like you must really have strong rizz game because how did you bag THE YN?!!!hours after the race YN's agency releases a statement about the relationship which at the end has a note from YN saying "Please respect my relationship I'm genuinely 100% happy with Yuki"After the announcement, YN and Yuki post on their accounts about confirming their relationship

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lalal-99 · 1 month

Text

of sex at parties {h.j.} | track 4

©June 2023, April 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6k

Synopsis: The one where you play Truth or Drink and things get a little heated.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I know, I know... I wanted to have shorter chapters and update more frequently. But life happens. And it just so happens that I rediscovered my love for music making and production (not that anyone cares or even reads my notes). These things tend to engulf me fully and don't let me go until I'm forced out of them. When will I post the next chapter? Who knows? Could be tomorrow. Could be in two months (not likely...).

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

“That’s almost too easy! Fuck Psy, Marry Bang PD and Kill JYP. Next!”

Yuqi’s answer sent Hwasa into a fit of laughter, almost bursting her pipes as she spat her drink into the nearby sink.

“Girl, you got some explaining to do about that.” When Wheein had prompted the blonde, she likely hadn’t expected an answer within two seconds.

“What do I have to explain about that? JYP was the obvious choice for Kill. Psy is famously known as the mother-father gentleman, so Fuck. And Bang PD…He has that TXT money. So, marry him and hopefully prevent him from signing any kind of prenup.” Yuqi took a sip from her cocktail, shrugging. The answer sent Hwasa straight into another breathless cough while her girlfriend steadied her. Otherwise she would have also sent her head straight into the marble countertop.

Two hours of dancing and three of Yuqi’s mysteriously strong cocktails after your arrival, you found yourself back in the kitchen. While all your closest friends surrounded you, everything seemed just a bit brighter. And a bit more funny too, with the alcohol running through your system. You were so relaxed even, you had somehow agreed to playing a few rounds of Truth or Drink. That you barely knew these people, or maybe because of it, you found yourself enjoying it more than usual.

So much so you had played it for the past 20 minutes, passing around questions with one simple rule. Either answer or empty your drink.

Sure, the gamification of drinking wasn’t the most intelligent decision. But it also gave you the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. So, what the heck!

“Okay, fair.”

Yuqi spun the bottle once Wheein had passed her answer as acceptable. The rim landed on Changbin this time, the only male in your group. Leaned back against the counter, you had almost forgotten he was present. Well, almost, hadn’t it been for his visible affection for Yuqi. He always laughed at her answers a bit too loud, looked at her a little too long. She had ignored him for the most part, though you doubted it was out of spite or disinterest. She didn’t even realise his attempt to grab her attention; too drunk and into the game.

Changbin waited for her question, watching her lips move as she phrased it seconds later.

“Body count. Go!”

A little cliché, yes, though the boy seemed indifferent about it.

“Depends. What body count are we talking about?” Changbin counter-questioned as he crossed his buff arms over his bottle.

“What kind of freaky stuff are you into that you have several types of body count?”

Redness spread from Changbin’s cheeks to his ears as he shifted.

“I’m not into anything weird,” he defended, embarrassed by her suggestion. “I was talking more about sex or, like, mouth and hand stuff.”

“Alright. Let’s do sex.” That gave him base to answer.

“Then two.”

“Two?” Hwasa was surprised, leaning forward as she propped herself onto the countertop. She was a little shaky, swaying back and forth on her elbows.

“Yes. You sound shocked.”

“Why so few?” Yuqi’s filter had subsided somewhen between drinks four and five. The words simply tumbled out of her mouth at this point.

“Because,” Changbin shifted his weight onto the other leg, stalling. Not that his answer was particularly weird as it was double your body count, after all. But you couldn’t deny your own surprise. Until now, he had seemed very sure of himself. Carrying himself with a fair amount of self-confidence; almost oozing sex-appeal. You, too, had expected his body count to be much higher. “I don’t sleep with anyone I’m not involved with. I had two long-term relationships in High School, back-to-back. So, two people’s not weird.”

“What about the hand and mouth stuff body count?”

Changbin smirked at Yuqi’s curiosity, bringing his bottle to his lips, “Only one question per round.”

“Suspicious,” Yuqi’s eyes narrowed, “but alright.”

“Great, my turn then.” Changbin spun the bottle and the cap-part landed on Hwasa. She straightener her back, daringly waving her hands at him.

“Hit me!”

Contemplating his options, Changbin took a few seconds to find an appropriate question. Which wasn’t easy seeing he didn’t know and had barely spoken to her. “Okay. What was the most public place you ever had sex in?” Considering the expected sexual direction this game had taken, the question was fitting.

Hwasa ran her long nails through her hair, eyes fixing on Wheein in deep thought. “There’s been a few. What do you think, babe?”

“I don’t know. The whirlpool at my parent’s house?”

“Nah. That’s still pretty private. Your parents weren’t even home.”

Searching the mental drawers of her brain, Hwasa found a more fitting memory. She sent a knowing look towards her girlfriend, logging in her final answer. “I know. When we did at the movies.”

Wheein cocked an eyebrow as she took a strong sip from her drink. Her gaze, meanwhile, remained fixed on the colourful liquid, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah... That wasn’t me.”

“Of course it was!” Hwasa exclaimed, gesturing with her hands to revive the memory. “We watched that awful Tom Cruise movie.”

“I’ve never seen a Tom Cruise movie in my life.”

Hwasa should have left it at that, but her intoxicated brain didn’t take the hint. Knowing the crucial details of their backstory together—courtesy to Yuqi and her impressive interrogational skills—you sent her warning glares. Though she was too focused on her girlfriend to notice.

As extroverted as you had learned her to be, Hwasa had her fair share of relationships in the past. She had been with many men and women alike; some more serious and others not so much. Like her friends-with-benefits situation with Jackson, for example. After dating a lot through High School and the first two years of college, she eventually met Wheein. They loved each other very much, as anyone could tell after spending a few hours with them. An unspoken dynamic remained nonetheless, with Wheein being far less experienced.

She had been with men only for the first 20 years of her life. It took her another year to realise why her interest in them had never stuck. And another year after that to come to terms with her sexuality. That’s when she met Hwasa, their eventual relationship the first serious one she had ever been in. Let alone with a woman.

For as much as they loved each other, Wheein became insecure whenever Hwasa mentioned her previous partners.

So, yes. Hwasa should have probably let it be. But she didn’t.

“Erm, we sure did. I can’t believe you don’t remember. We got one of those loveseats in the last row, but the movie was so bad we started making out and stuff.” She didn’t need to explain and stuff further for you to know what she was hinting at. “I distinctly remember because my hair kept tangling up in your earrings. Almost lost an ear for sex that day.”

Clearing her throat, Wheein stepped back to lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Wasn’t me. See.” She lifted her hair, showing her ears to her girlfriend. It took a few seconds to realise her ears weren’t pierced. “It must have been one of your exes.”

A veil of tension spread over you at the hint of malaise in her voice. Hwasa’s cheeks heated up, a manicured nail between her teeth at the realisation.

“Oops.”

Despite the music blasting through the speakers, the silence was thick. It broke only once Yuqi spoke up. You had never been happier about her ability to find the place to pick up previous conversations.

“I had sex in a whirlpool once.” Heads turned in her direction as her face scrunched up at the memory. “Very sexy, but not comfortable. And then there’s the issue of protection. Who in their right mind carries a condom when sitting in a whirlpool?”

“So? What did you do?” Changbin’s curiosity was very sparked.

“We took a chance.” A shockwave overtook the crowd as though Yuqi had said something controversial. “I know. I’m not proud of it, either. But as I said, it was very sexy, and we didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“I definitely do not recommend taking a chance. Especially not for the sake of not ruining the mood.”

All eyes turned to you as you spoke, only acknowledging your words once they had come out of your mouth. Maybe you should go slower on the alcohol, as your body started to act on its own account.

“Speaking from experience?” Hwasa questioned with a smirk as you took another sip from your drink before finally setting it down.

“A friend of mine,” you explained, crossing your arms as you leaned against the fridge behind you. “She winged it once and got pregnant.”

“Damn! How old was she?”

“14 and a half.”

“That’s rough. Did your friend keep it?”

“He’s turning four in November.”

Most colour drained from Yuqi’s face at those words and a shudder ran through her body. “Now I’m kinda glad the only thing I got from my story was a cold.”

The crowd fell into a bunch of giggles at Yuqi’s honesty, the tensive mood finally fading. She should consider her ability to cut right through tension a gift.

Your gaze tiptoed through the doorway into the living area where they met a familiar figure. Over the past half-hour, you had searched his attention on occasion. The alcohol in your system encouraged the search for proximity to Jisung. Now that you had reached the early morning hours, the crowd started dissolving, and it became much easier for you to follow his movements. That he had the same urge for your closeness hadn’t gone by you. Several longing gazes had found you, which the vibrating egg inside you had at least some part in.

Jisung was still with most of his friends—sans Changbin, who was with you, and Felix, who had left a while ago. Instead, a few girls had entered the chat, most prominently a girl around your age and height. Why was she so prominent? Well, she seemed to find anything and everything your boyfriend said hilarious. She threw her black bob-cut-hair back so much, you feared she'd break her neck. She had started a conversation with your boyfriend earlier and now hung on his every word.

While you had checked their whereabouts at first, you stopped once you noticed Jisung’s nonverbal cues. The constant gazes your way and his lip wandering between his teeth with every uncomfortable chuckle. They told you he did anything but enjoy the banter the skimpily-clad girl had engaged him in.

Your suspicion proved correct when Jisung reached into his pocket and the vibrations picked up. Reassurance, that while he was talking to someone else, his mind was still entirely with you.

You probably should have helped out your boyfriend. You knew he couldn’t act on his unwillingness to continue talking to her. Though Jisung had to learn to handle such situations at some point. And you were having such a blast with your friends, so you let him be. The group was still debating their most public sexcapades and your head turned back as your lips wrapped around your bottle.

Apparently, your diverting glances hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you not bothered by that?”

Looking down at yourself, you feared your outfit had malfunctioned in some way. You knew you shouldn’t have worn a skirt to a frat party, but Yuqi had convinced you out of your faded black jeans. You always wear them. Spice it up a little. Unbeknownst to her, you had already spiced it up, the egg inside you rubbing against your walls with delicious pressure. But you still let yourself be talked into the skirt. Now, you regretted all your life decisions as a group of people stared at you.

“Why? What is it?” You searched your outfit for the origin of Hwasa’s statement.

“I’m talking about your boyfriend. Talking to another girl.”

You found the two of them again, eyes wandering up and down the girl’s sporty figure. Her long legs were clad in skin-tight jeans that reached her narrow waist. A crop top and pair of spotless white sneakers rounded off her athletic look. Her hand ran through her jet-black hair and that was all it took to detect that she was flirting. If her longing glances at Jisung hadn’t already been hint enough.

“And a pretty one,” Yuqi added as you focused on the group again, shaking your head.

“Not really, no. Why? Should I?”

“I don’t know. I’d be if it were my girlfriend, talking to her.” Wheein blushed at Hwasa’s words, damage control overshadowing her previous insecurity.

“I wouldn’t be too worried,” Changbin interjected, grabbing your attention. “She’s been coming on to each of us at least once tonight. She started off with Chris and made her way down the line.”

“Even if she didn’t. They’re only talking.” You met Jisung’s gaze, his lips morphing into a smile once he noticed. The vibrations spiked on cue, and it took a little more focus from you not to react. “I trust him.”

Little could have destroyed the trust you had for each other. Either of you understood that you had gotten lucky. Being with your best friend and finding your soulmate this early on. Apart from that, neither of you had ever given the other a reason to mistrust them. You were smart enough to not let anything risk what you had.

When Jisung excused himself from the group, your sense of awareness was proven yet again. He left the girl mid-conversation to join your separate party which filled you with pride. His cheeks squished into their usual round shape as he beamed at you until he landed at your side.

“Are you talking about me, or am I so pretty you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you from behind and his chin landed on your shoulder. “It’s when he says things like that, that I know I’m stuck with him for life.”

The girls and Changbin chuckled at your words, Jisung meeting your gaze with a frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, baby. I love you.”

The stupid grin forming on his lips warmed your heart. “Love you, too.”

Your group picked up their game of Truth or Drink while your boyfriend stood wrapped around you. You tried focusing while Hwasa spun the bottle to land on you. The alcohol in your system caused a constant buzz, goosebumps rising as she asked you about secret kinks.

Your friends went positively berserk when you told them about your exhibitionistic tendencies. Not you. Not well-behaved Y/N, who never even swore. You refrained from further mentioning how you sometimes ditched underwear in everyday situations. Yuqi’s eyes would have probably bulked out of her skulls, comic-book-style. You also didn’t note your fondness of public play, fearing Hwasa would suffocate, forgetting to breathe.

“Sorry, but I can’t believe we could walk in on you two getting your freak on, entering a lecture hall. Or the cafeteria. Or the football court. Although…Would we walk out on you in that case?” Hwasa questioned once she had found the brainpower to pick her jaw up from the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you told your friend in amusement. “We’re pretty good at hiding. You wouldn’t even know we’re there.”

A whole new set of toxins filled your bloodstream as you talked something so dirty. Quickening palpitations were enforced by your boyfriend, pulling you closer against himself. The mere mention of your spicy secret was enough to drive him crazy. He seemed even more excited, being the only one knowing you were living your kink right that second.

Your very sexy, very tempting boyfriend shared your interest in all things exhibitionist. Although you usually kept the PDA down whenever around people. Sure, you exchanged kisses here and there. But even hugging typically only occurred when no one was around. It was somewhat precautional. So people around you weren’t even slightly suspicious when you decided to go commando. Or if either of you controlled whatever Bluetooth vibrator the other was wearing. No one would suspect anything like that from the couple that hardly held hands in public.

Your friends accepted your revelation after many more questions, which remained unanswered. They went off-topic—or rather, off you as the focus of it—as they debated their willingness to have sex in public. And you didn’t dare complain.

This way, no one noticed Jisung’s hand creeping up the back of your thigh until he reached your ass. He kissed the back of your neck, blowing cool air against the moist skin as it tickled you. Trying to stay calm and keep your secret antics secret from your friends was half the fun. You bit the inside of your cheek as his breath tickled you, his teeth soon moving to nibble at your earlobe.

The two of you swayed to the music, concealing your ass which was grinding against his growing bulge. It was no surprise when you felt him stiffen against the movement, a proud smirk appearing on your face.

Your ability to turn each other on in seconds was still as present as during the first few weeks together.

“Baby,” Jisung hummed against your ear, hands grabbing your hips to still you.

“Mhm.”

The music was loud, and the people around you were drunk enough so no one could follow your conversation.

“It’s been about three hours of me playing with you like this. How about we tend to that upstairs bedroom situation?”

“I don’t know.” The wondering tone in your voice was fake, teasing, and Jisung could tell. “I’m not convinced. Also, kinda having a blast here.”

“I don’t think this is a matter of conviction,” Jisung whispered, lips wandering over your neck. His hands travelled under your shirt, fingers digging into your flesh as he manhandled you towards the exit. “It’s been over a week since we last did it. You’re as desperate as I am.”

“Am I?”

“We should go upstairs. You know, to check.”

Inspecting your surroundings, right now seemed the best possible moment to leave. Everyone was deep in conversation, attention straying from the two of you.

“Okay. But let’s make this quick. Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the party.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna be real fast.”

Jisung took you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen and towards the staircase at the back of the room. You looked back at the group as Oohs and Get Its were thrown your way and gave your friends a thumbs up.

From that moment on, your mind was on Jisung.

You ran up the stairs behind him, and into the dim, unoccupied hallway. Once you had ensured you were on your own, you pulled Jisung back to finally kiss him.

His hands came to your hips on impact, keeping you steady against him as your mouth opened to let him in. Tongues intertwining and teeth clashing, he stepped forward, pushing you against the wall. Jisung didn’t take a breather, grinding himself against you and giving you no time to think. People could have come out of one of the rooms at any point, catching you. Not a hint of secrecy remained as the alcohol and your boyfriend’s tasted roamed your veins.

Soon enough, his mouth travelled down your jaw, tongue meeting the skin of your throat in a longing suck. He went all in, his hands running up your body until he met your breasts. The pressure against your throat provoked a throaty moan.

You hummed at his actions, feeling even more desperate for his full attention.

With your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer to your chest, his lips soon pressed against your cleavage. It reddened under his kisses and your breathing accellerate as he rubbed over your nipples. H knew your body better than you, strong arms keeping you in place as he handled you the way that always made you go crazy. Made you crave him.

“Baby—” you groaned into the air, head thrown back to grant him more access to your neck.

“Told you, you were as desperate as me.” The smugness in his voice remained uncommented as both his hands dipped under your bra. He pinched your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and you ground yourself against him. A gush of wetness filled your panties as though they weren’t already soaked. It had been hours of him, controlling the vibrations inside you. “I bet you’re leaking out of your panties.” Jisung’s hand ran down your side until it reached the edge of your skirt. He felt below it, fingers dancing over your hot skin until his palm landed at your centre, cupping you. A groan left his lips. “Mhm, just like I said. You’re dripping.”

“Fine. You caught me,” you admitted with a sigh. “What are you gonna do about it, though?”

His face remained close as he turned the vibrations to the max, giving you no chance to prepare. Bending your knees at the rush of pleasure, you moaned into his mouth, pleading up at him. With his hand still cupping you, he could feel every contraction of your walls. Two of his fingers pushed the egg deeper into you. His palm against your clit further increased the electricity coursing through your veins.

“Did you say something?” Your mind blurred from the vibrations as mumbled pleas tumbled over your lips. Jisung smirked at your inability to form words, the toy slowing down after a while. “Didn’t think so.”

When he opened the door to the first bedroom he found, you followed him inside. Before he could even ask you to strip, you were already starting to undress. You were about to take your skirt off when Jisung stopped you with a request you couldn’t find it in you to deny.

“Leave it on.”

Of course, your insatiable, horny boyfriend would want to fuck you in a mini-skirt. You hadn’t worn anything that short in years. Add stockings and a cropped Rolling Stones shirt, and this would have come close to the outfit you had met him in.

Jisung removed his clothes, tight jeans requiring more attention as he struggled pushing them over his erection. After watching him take forever to rid himself of the confines, you decided to help him. Guiding his hands away from his crotch, you took over. A suggestive smile played on your lips as you held eye contact, dragging the pants over him and down his toned legs.

He expected you to lay back down once he was freed, letting him push you back into submission. Though, you had other plans at that moment.

Stripping your boyfriend of his briefs, his length looked too delicious to let the moment go by. So, you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

First, you concentrated on the head. You let the tip of your tongue dance over him before adding further lip action. After mere seconds, he was red and swollen, droplets of white crawling down the sides. He was twitching against your lips, head rolling back at the delightful dissatisfaction. Slow-paced ministrations were as arousing to him as they were frustrating, so you already expected his irritation.

Not a minute later, Jisung’s hands crept to the back of your head, attempting to guide you further down. In the current power position you found yourself in, you wouldn’t have any of that.

“Don’t move, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“’s not enough,” Jisung mumbled but complied, hands resting on your cheeks instead. “I need more.”

“I know. Just enjoy.”

You moved back to his head, sucking at him as your fingers dug into his thighs. They twitched against your touches, every other suck making him weak in the knees as they buckled.

Once Jisung started panting, you sped up, fitting more of him into your mouth. You could tell it became harder for him to hold back, hips bucking into your mouth on occasion. You didn’t stop him, enjoying his despair for the warmth and the lustful sight only you could provide him with. It made you feel powerful, the dominant side overtaking the logical one as you took him as deep as possible.

Gagging around him, a breathy “Fuck!” escaped him as he got oh so close to his orgasm. At some point, he must have taken the remote control out of his pocket. As he was nearing the edge, the vibrations increased, causing a moan to slip past your lips and around his length. He stifled an ecstatic scream with the back of his hand.

Your performance suffered for a mere second and Jisung took the opportunity to pull out. With new-found energy, he shoved you to lay on your back.

Typically, you held the more dominant position in bed. Sending your boyfriend to heaven by riding him like there was no tomorrow. All the more exciting was it when Jisung was so on edge he couldn’t stand your teasing. When he couldn’t wait to be inside you. That’s when he used his physical superiority to overpower you and have it his way.

You definitely had a soft spot for how he dominated you when he was particularly desperate.

With your back against the mattress and his arms on either side of your waist, there was no way for you to get up. Jisung used this advantage to connect his mouth to your breast, sucking at your nipple like you loved. Your eyes rolled back at the incredible sensitivity of each of his touches. After spending significant time at your chest—granting both sides the same amount of attention—he kissed his way further down. He flipped your skirt up and over your stomach, your underwear long stripped and you left exposed.

Desperate to get inside you, you expected him to remove the vibrator and replace it with himself. When he started kissing your thighs and stomach, you were surprised. Though you didn’t dare complain. Not when his lips burned your skin, threatening to leave lingering marks.

“So sweet.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear the whispered words against your core. The smile creeping onto your face turned to a loud moan as Jisung dove in. His lips found your clit, wrapping around it in a harsh hug. When he started sucking on you, the vibrations speeding up again, you believed you saw stars.

Your vision blurred, eyes moving to watch him, but you could barely make out shapes. Too overwhelming was his mouth on you, hips soon rolling against him to urge for more speed. A smirk against your flesh was followed by him repositioning your legs over his shoulders. It made him feel so much closer, your bodies basically becoming one. His mouth practically glued to your cunt.

At first, Jisung kept an agonising slow pace, eating you like he had all the time in the world. After a while, as your breathing sped up, so did your boyfriend’s mouth. For every count that your heartbeat accelerated, so did he. Licking a little preciser, sucking a little fiercer. All the while, he was grinding against the mattress, chasing his own release which was fast approaching. So much so you could tell from the humming against your core that sent shivers up your spine.

“Sungie—” you breathed out, hand coming to his hair to stop him. “Baby. Inside. Please.”

As he didn’t react at first, you thought he hadn’t heard you. You repeated your pleas, and finally, with a wall-tightening pull on your clit, he removed his lips from you. “I heard you the first time. Just couldn’t bring myself to stop yet.”

His words caused a breathy chuckle out of you as he took the vibrator out of you before kissing his way back up your body.

“You have protection?” you questioned as your fingers grazed his cheeks, heart eyes staring into your boyfriend’s.

“Always.” Connecting your lips in a soft kiss, Jisung got up for a few seconds to search his pants.

“Good thing we’re always prepared, huh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched your boyfriend take his wallet out of his pocket. All the talking about public sex and taking chances had unlocked some long overwritten memories, and you chuckled with an uncomfortable shiver. “At least now we are.”

The look on Jisung’s face faltered as he went through every compartment of his wallet. Once, twice, and then a third time. You could tell from his expression that something was wrong. “Actually, about that…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have condoms.”

“It seems like I forgot to fill up my stock. Don’t you have one with you?” Jisung asked, searching for your clothes on the bedroom floor.

“Have you seen my outfit? I barely have enough room for my phone.”

“Oh, I have seen your outfit, alright.” A suggestive smirk followed his reply as he climbed back over your body. “That skirt is doing things to me I can’t possibly put into words.”

Kissing you with more passion, Jisung’s lips soon wandered down your neck again.

“I could pull out.”

The laugh coming through your lips as you tilted your neck for better access was much sarcastic. “Have you learned nothing from the past? We are not taking chances.”

“So, we’re supposed to not have sex instead? Have you learned nothing from the past 20 minutes? We need this.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, view roaming through the room. Jisung’s gaze said something along the lines of ‘You have a plan, right?’. And a plan you had. Rolling out from under your boyfriend, you crawled over to the nightstand. “What’s one thing every frat always has at hand?” You pulled open the upper drawer, feeling its content as a smile spread on your lips. “I knew it.”

With an overjoyed “Yes!”, Jisung grabbed the silver square from your hands, opening it with his teeth. “This screams for a celebration?”

“What did you have in mind?”

The ambiguous grin crossing your boyfriend’s face made you curious and aroused you simultaneously. From experience, you knew his ideas in this area never quite disappointed. Most of them added into your bedroom routine; adapted into your standard practices.

Jisung soon crawled back over your body, erection pressing against your entrance as he held the vibrator between his fingers. “Baby?”

“Ssh.” One of his fingers came to your mouth as he smiled at you, happy. “Just enjoy.”

When he slipped inside you, your walls instantly wrapped around him. Sculptured for his exact shape and size. Having him this close, hitting your spot as though he himself had placed it right at his tip, filled you with complete satisfaction. You could have remained in this position for hours. Being close to him. Warming him. Though soon enough, the calm inside you was forced to evacuate, the electrifying vibration of the pink egg meeting your clit.

You jumped at the feeling that was only enforced as Jisung started moving. Rapidly. Sending you to heaven within seconds as you crumbled around him. Nothing but his name escaped your lips, like a holy mantra.

It didn’t take either of you long to finish, both of you on edge from having waited over a week to be together like this. Which, quite frankly, rarely happened. And when the orgasm finally hit, toes curling and walls crashing, it sent him into his own high.

It took you minutes to come back down to earth.

“Damn.” You chuckled, agreeing, and your eyes met when you tilted your head to look up at him. You rested on his chest as it rose in unison with your breathing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed for a while, simply enjoying the intimacy before you pulled away to get up from the bed.

“You want to go back already?”

While you retrieved your clothes from the floor, your boyfriend still laid in bed, naked, propped up on his elbows. “What? You need more aftercare or something?”

“Nah. I thought you might. That was really intense just now.”

You pulled your top over your head, tugging it in your skirt before strutting towards him. With your fists planted on the mattress, you bowed over him, giving him a long, heated kiss. He bit your lip as you drew away, one of his hands coming to your jaw to keep you still.

“I need to pee.”

“Wow,” Jisung replied with a giggle, letting go of your face. “You’re nailing the dirty talk, baby.”

You blew a kiss at him as you walked to the door, leaving the room to find a bathroom.

A long hallway with a handful of doors on each side opened before you. The house was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside, fitting around a dozen people. And that was just the first floor. Any of these doors could lead to a bathroom but this was somewhat urgent. So, you opted for a rushed yet systematic approach.

You chose the door next to the one you had come out of, finding nothing but an empty bedroom. Much like the one your boyfriend was currently dressing in. The door after that was some form of storage unit, the only thing close to a toilet a bucket on the floor. If your search came up empty, you might revisit the idea.

One after another door led to more disappointment. Not until you opened the last door on the left side you found a room that wasn’t an unoccupied bedroom. It still was a bedroom—very much so—but it wasn’t even close to vacant.

The layout came into focus, illuminated by a ring light standing in the corner. As you further roamed the room, you spotted two bodies pressed together in the comfort of one of the two beds. You had no idea how you even got a close enough look to realise you knew one of the two people. It was likely your eyes, meeting for a second. That’s when you recognised his signature freckles, his face dropping as panic overshadowed.

“I’m sorry.” As fast as you had entered the room, you left it, eyes wide in confusion and surprise. It took you less than a few seconds to add two and two together.

Before you could think further about it, you got pulled out of your haze by none other than your boyfriend.

“Found a bathroom, baby?”

“Huh?” He tiptoed towards you and a grin spread on his features as he inspected a stinging hickey on your neck.

“Bathroom?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t find one.” You smiled as he pulled you closer, kissing the dark mark. “I’ll use the one downstairs.”

“Let’s get back then. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun, right?” A wink followed his question which you didn’t have the mind to return properly. You couldn’t quite forget what you had seen, hands entangling with your boyfriend’s as you threw one last look back into the hallway.

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staytinyville · 5 months

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Stay Alive (36)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. This was supposed to be a smut but I struggled to do the last ones so no it did not turn into a smut. But just know that in my head they did do the do.

Getting to the mountains was not that hard. It was an easy and quick drive seeing as a lot of people were flying about as well. All the boys decided to tag along, Namjoon explaining to you that tomorrow you would go to visit his own family that were also waiting in Seoul.

Some of the boys had called their own families, explaining that you were with them and they would be taking turns a day to spend time with you. You could hear their families crying and sobbing over the fact that their boys were home. They explained that after seeing Jin’s family they would be going back home and you would meet them later on.

They wouldn’t tell you why it was that Jin’s family seemed to be important, but coming up to a large wall that had a palace hidden behind it made you wonder just how important he truly was. You stopped behind the man, moving around to look at his face.

He swallowed thickly, tears pooling in his eyes as he looked up at the gates of the wall. His hands balled into fist to keep from crying out loud. You moved to grab one, slowly pulling his fingers out to fit them through yours.

“Are you okay, Jin?” You asked him quietly.

“It's been so long since I've been home.” He choked. “I don't know what to expect.”

“I'm sure you'll find your parents and siblings all waiting for you on the other side of the door.” Namjoon patted his older comrade on the back, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I'm right here.” You told him, squeezing his hand just a bit.

“We all are.” Jungkook spoke up from Jin’s other side, giving the older boy a large grin.

Jin nodded his head once, taking a step forward to reach the gate once more. As you all began to move forward, the guards stationed at the front were the first to take notice of you all. They waited for a moment as you reached them, about to ask what business you had with the family but suddenly did a double take as Jin in the front.

They were large people with pig-like noses. Large teeth protruded from the bottom of their lips as they looked to be sabertooth like. There were many creatures you could think of at the moment but you couldn’t be too sure. You watched as their noses wiggled, taking a whiff of all of you just in case.

“Your majesty?” One called, letting go of his stiff posture as disbelief painted his features. “Is it—Is it really you?”

“It is him!” The other shouted, weapon falling to the floor as he began to hyperventilate.

“By gods!” The first guard yelled, turning to the gates. “The crowned prince has returned!”

As the gates began to open up and a large palace in the mountain came into view, your eyes went wide as the guard shouted about Jin being the crowned prince. You quickly turned to the boy, looking at him incredulously.

“What?” You spoke out loud.

“Our Jinnie here is the elven prince of Korea.” Jimin gushed, poking the older man in the cheek as he hung off his shoulder.

“You didn't tell me!?” You yelled, as all of you began to make your way into the palace too stunned to take notice of everything around you.

“It's not like it was important in your world.” Jin shrugged, looking at you as if it was no big deal.

“Jin!” You gasped about to scold him when you were stopped by four women walking up you.

Your eyes went wide once more at how beautiful they all looked. Even dressed in large steel armor that clearly protected them while in battle made them look ethereal.

“Your grace.” One began giving Jin a large smile. “It's such a great relief to have you back home.”

“Thank you, Solar.” Jin bowed his head, laughing a little at how happy he was to be home.

The rest of the women smiled gratefully, giving Jin and the boys a pat on the back. They each introduced themselves to you; Solar, Moonbyul, Hwasa, and Wheein–their nicknames according to Jin. When they bowed onto their knees when they learned it was you who helped them get back home.

You blushed of course, quickly telling them to get it. When all things were done, they began to lead you towards what you assumed to be the throne room.

“Wow.” You quietly told yourself, following the girls.

“They're Valkyries. Most royal families have them as personal guards.” Yoongi explained from the other side of you.

“They've been here for as long as I can remember. They are a lot like me when it comes to their aging process.” Jin began to explain.

“How old are you really then?” You playfully asked, giggling as you saw the look on his face.

“The oldest!” Taehyung giggled.

“Ya! Don't be rude. I'm not that old.” Jin scolded the boy.

Before they could continue to bicker more, Solar and Wheein opened up the large doors. You saw the thrones sitting directly in front on a stage. However, what you assumed to be the king and queen, were pacing in front of it. They immediately stopped when the doors opened, shoulders falling as they took you all in.

“Seokjin?” The woman began to have tears fall from her eyes, slowly getting closer to Jin.

She slowly reached a hand out as she began to touch Jin’s pointed ears. Her lips trembled as she searched his face. A sob wracked through her body, pulling the tall boy in for a hug.

“Hi.” Jin sobbed out.

“My son has returned!” She cried out, fingers clenching onto Jin’s shirt tightly. “The gods have answered our prayers!” She turned to her husband, allowing him to hug Jin as well.

“Boys!” Jin’s mother smiled even more when she saw the 6 other men behind Jin. “I'm so happy to see you all in good health.” She hugged each one, patting their cheeks and checking over for any injuries as she did with Jin.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Namjoon politely spoke up.

“Hello.” She stopped at you, wiping at her tears as she tried to keep her composure in front of you. “Who might you be?” She asked, eyes bright.

Jin pulled back from his father, turning to you. You smiled at him, reaching up to wipe at his tears out of instinct with your sleeve. Jin’s parents watched the interaction with a smile, his mother holding her hands together at her chest as she cooed quietly at you.

“Mother. Father.” Jin pulled you to his side, holding your hand tightly with his. “This is our mate, (Y/N). She's the one who saved us.”

Jin’s mother reached out to hold your face between her smaller hands. You gave her a kind smile, bowing your head in respect.

“Thank you for bringing my son back.” She told you, lip trembling as she rubbed at your cheek.

“Of course, your grace.” You answered.

“Call me, mom.” She giggled, teasing you as she took a glance at Jin.

You laughed at the blush that settled over the older man’s face, but you could tell that he didn’t want things to be different. You had just learned that Jin had lived a long life before being kidnapped so he must have known what it was like to be with your parents for a while. You didn’t know what things would be like for the younger boys but if Jin had spent so much time with his family things must have been hard for him.

“We will have the cooks prepare a fantastic meal for you!” Jin’s father gushed, patting Jin’s back. “Oh, your brother will be so happy to see you again! He should be on his way! We shall celebrate this tremendous occasion that the crowned prince and his coven have returned.” He gave the boys all grateful smiles before turning to you.

“And that he has finally found his mate.” He bowed his head towards you.

“We will announce it to the people soon.” Moonbyul spoke up,

“Tomorrow.” The king smiled at his guards. “For now, we wish to have our son. There is a lot we have to catch up on.”

And catch up you all did. You met Jin’s older brother, another tear-fest as the two brothers hugged. You learned about his time spent as the prince. You also learned why he was the crowned prince and not his older brother. Compared to his brother, Jin was the one more suited to be king because of the time he spent learning about it. His brother wanted to do other things while Jin understood that someone needed to be King and he was more than happy to take the spot.

The other boys all took their leave to make it home before it got too dark. You would be staying the night with Jin and Namjoon would come to get you in the morning to take you to meet his family.

The queen had sent some clothing for you to sleep in–silk pajamas that matched Jin’s–to the man’s bedroom. You had finished dressing only to come out and find Jin looking at pictures and trinkets he had around his room. You smiled at the calming aura Jin had. He was so relaxed compared to how you knew him back in the facility.

All the boys were like that. On edge and ready to fight anything that seemed to harm them or others. For once they could rest. And you were so happy to see them that way. In such a short amount of time you never realized how much they would end up meaning to you. Much less all of them. You didn’t know if it had to do with the fact that it was something part of their magic, or if it was just you but you wanted to see them happy all the time.

“Your family is amazing.” You spoke up, pulling the blankets back to lay down comfy in bed.

Jin turned around and grinned at you, moving to get comfy on his side of the bed. This mattress had nothing on the beds in the facility that was for sure. Jin could finally have a good night's sleep.

“Thank you for spending the night with me.” Jin whispered, giving you lips a peck.

“Of course, Jinnie.” You grinned, forehead touching his.

“You mean so much to us.” Jin spoke up softly, moving a hand to touch your cheek. “You have no idea how much we are grateful for you. We will never be able to find a way to repay you back.”

“Being with all of you is enough for me.” You nudged his nose with yours, smiling softly.

“I love you.” Jin quietly said, breathing it against your lips.

You felt your heart stop for a moment, a huffed out laugh spilling from your lips. You moved to give him a kiss, hand on his cheek.

“I love you too, Seokjin.”

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@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @girl-nahh-two , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @oemmi2005 , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo, @serveruslovebot , @vintageoldfashion ,

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emeraldelysian · 4 months

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Jung Wheein ✧ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

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Pairing: Jung Wheein x Reader

Genre: Smut

Synopsis: After an awful anniversary date with your boyfriend, you come home to your roommate Wheein to rant about the entire evening. What you don't realize is that Wheein has a plan to make you forget all about your bad date.

Wordcount: 1.1K+

Warnings: Reader has F. Anatomy, Roommate AU, Oral (F. Receiving), Lesbian, Praise Kink, Cheating on an Awful Boyfriend (all my homies hate Brian)

Note: On my knees for women right now so I decided to write about it

♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

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"-And then Brian had the audacity to call me a hot piece of ass in front of his friends! Can you believe it? What a prick."

Wheein watched you pace back and forth in her bedroom as you rambled on and on about the bad date you had with your boyfriend, the TV still on at a lower volume from when she was watching. What was meant to be a nice anniversary dinner at his house had quickly turned into a bro fest with your boyfriend treating you like trash in front of his friends, because he had supposedly "forgotten that you two were going to hang out."

You and Wheein had been roommates for some time, going from dorming together at your university to getting an apartment until you both figured out your lives.

"I mean I love him- or at least, I thought I did. But then I remember that every time we've had sex, he for some reason just doesn't think I need him to do anything?? Like sometimes I want attention too. And when he does give me attention, he makes it feel like a chore. Like he'd rather be doing literally anything else. And like I know sex education is terrible in some schools but he's a grown man. How does he not know what the clit is-"

"Well, what if I eat you out?" She didn't know what urged her to blurt out the words she did, and she avoided looking into your eyes the moment she said it. She could feel your gaze on her though as you took in what she asked.

“You- You want to- really?”

Your voice sounds far away and you have to snap yourself back to reality when Wheein stands up and looks at you.

Wheein nods slowly, brown eyes wide and curious. Pleading.

“You…you always told me girls are better at it than boys are,” she murmurs, hand gently grasping at your hand, “and — and you told me your boyfriend is bad at it. So let me try? Maybe I'll be better…”

She trails off, gnawing at her bottom lip while she looks at you. Her wide eyes and pouty lips make her look so innocent you think you’re going to combust.

'This is wrong', you think to yourself. You have a boyfriend, even if you hated him. The two of you could never be together. She’d probably regret it in the morning, you-

"You can teach me, can’t you? Please?”

Fuck it.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and nod, “Y-yeah, fuck, come here, pretty girl-“

You shuffle on the bed so you can lay against the pillows with your legs spread, your date clothes suddenly suffocating.

Wheein's so eager to please; she nods obediently and immediately scampers to slot herself in between your legs. Pretty manicured hands bring your shorts and panties to the side, and then she freezes. She’s shaking, brown eyes flicking up to meet yours. She has no clue what she’s doing and your pussy is so pretty- she’s nervous.

“S-stick your tongue out, baby. Y-yeah, just like that, oh my god-“ your hand shoots up to fist in those blond strands, the girl’s tongue timid and soft against your folds.

“Go a little…a little harde- fuck, baby, yes, swipe that sweet little tongue across my clit, j-just like that—“ you whimper, gasping. You involuntarily pull her forward, at the same time bucking your hips up to meet her mouth. it’s fucking heavenly.

You don’t even have to tell her what to do next, her plush lips wrapping around the bud and sucking hard. You cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

She pulls off for a second, blowing cool air over your clit and giggling when your legs jerk. Her eyes blink up at you slowly, half-lidded and hazy, “U-use me, please? Want you to- want you to cum in my mouth. Want to- want to be a good girl.”

Wheein needs praise. You don’t know how you didn’t clock that before. It sends you into some animalistic overdrive and you nod. How could you say no to something so precious?

“Yeah, pretty girl, fuck, get in here-“ you push her back down and she lets you, humming into your cunt obediently and swirling her tongue around your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking again.

This time she flicks her tongue against you as she sucks, soft hands running up and down your thighs as she does. Your hips are bucking wildly now, grinding up into that hot little mouth and whining as you do.

“Such a good girl for me, so pretty. Gonna make me c-cum, oh my god-“ You should be embarrassed by how high-pitched your voice is, how quickly you’re going to cum. You probably would be later, but your orgasm is barreling towards you and you can’t bring yourself to care.

All it takes is those pretty eyes blinking up at you through long lashes and that knot in your tummy snaps, your back arching as tears fall down your cheeks. It feels so good you’re shaking. You realize it’s been far too long since you’ve had a real orgasm.

“S-so good, shit, my good girl, god- take it, take it-“ You hump her face through your orgasm, cunt fluttering and spasming. It’s too good. Wheein keeps sucking your cunt like the perfect girl she is.

Your legs shake, chest heaving as you come down from your high. You pet at her hair absentmindedly, eyes half lidded.

She pulls off with a wet pop, resting a soft cheek on the fat of your thigh and looking up at you with a giggle, “Was that good?”

She’s got stars in her eyes. you only nod, running your fingers through pretty strawberry locks, “S-so good. Where the hell did you learn all that? Use me? Be a good girl? Are you insane, Wheein?”

She’s embarrassed, pale cheeks flushing bright red when she replies, “I- I remember how you used to talk about the guys you’d be with and what they'd do wrong so I wanted to try out the things you've said you wanted."

You groan. She’s perfect.

“Fuck, you’re unreal. Get up here and let me return the favor or I'm gonna die.” You grin as she nods eagerly.

Your phone dings with a message from Brian, the phone screen flashing with a "Send a pic" text. You roll your eyes, hands already gripping her hips and lowering her down onto your tongue as you mentally make the decision to break up with him the next morning.

53 notes · View notes

theharrowing · 10 months

Text

One Day at a Time 🌙 1: I finally get to have you

Yoongi loves to help others. As a professional surrogate, he takes pride in using his body to help families bring life into this world, and love into their homes. But when his high school crush Kim Namjoon hires Yoongi to help him and his wife conceive, things get…precarious.

Or, Omega Yoongi gets bred by Alpha Namjoon and holy shit, does he fall in love.

🐺 Yoongi x Namjoon, established Namjoon x Wheein

🌙 word count: 19.9k

🌙 past acquaintances to lovers, a/b/o, mpreg, infidelity, angst, smut, eventual fluff, slash, nsfw, 21+

🌙 warnings: alpha/top Namjoon, omega/bottom Yoongi; Namjoon is married; Yoongi is a mess, and he cries a lot; a/b/o stuff (mating cycles, lots of scent stuff, wolf instincts, omega slick), angst (hormones raging, pining), a dash of ritualistic sex (it happens in the second act hehehe.)

🌙 note: hello, and welcome to my very first a/b/o fic! full notes on the index, but i wanted to thank @sailoryooons and @sweetestofchaos once more for all the help with this! reminder: infidelity is a big part of this fic, so if you’re not into that, you will not like this!!! take the warnings seriously!!! Yoongi is a mess but he's our mess and we love him. have fun!!!

🌙 written for one shot two shot fest

🌙 thanks to @neoneunnajimin & @sailoryooons for beta reading!

🌙 posted july 2023 | read on ao3

INDEX | NEXT

Yoongi never thought he would see Kim Namjoon again. Once he graduated from high school and the two of them went their separate ways – Yoongi to college in the countryside and Namjoon to marry the rich, pretty valedictorian – he hadn't expected their paths to cross. They had not, in fact, for nearly ten years.

The only time Namjoon ever fully acknowledged Yoongi was all those years ago in school, the week Yoongi first presented as omega. The news was a shock for everyone, most especially himself. Sure, Yoongi never saw himself as an alpha – preferring a softer, quieter life – rarely exhibiting dominant traits of any sort. But he anticipated the neutrality and normalcy of presenting as beta.

First were the hot flashes and overwhelming urge to bury himself in his softest, warmest cardigan. He hadn’t realized he was nuzzling his face into his sweater paws during math period until a classmate beside him asked a sharp, shrill, “What are you doing?” causing him to look up, confused and ashamed.

Yoongi had excused himself to the school nurse, worried he was coming down with some kind of fever, and he practically threw himself at her feet the moment a cramp radiated through his body, knocking him to his knees. He was certain he had food poisoning or some kind of stomach bug – what else could it have been? Certainly, he could not have been presenting as omega.

The nurse excused Yoongi from school through the duration of his first heat, which lasted about a week and a half. And the event itself was hell on earth, but nothing could have prepared him for returning to school. Somehow, everyone knew.

“A boy presenting as omega,” boys would say as they shoved Yoongi around, pushing him against lockers and towering over him like ravenous beasts. “That makes you worse than a girl.”

"He's pretty like a girl, though," one of the boys teased loudly.

“How does your dad feel?” they would ask in mocking tones – some of whom hadn’t yet presented, themselves. “Isn’t he ashamed of you?”

It was during lunch break that Namjoon – the tall, broad, handsome president of his class – came barreling around the corner and growled at those boys to get away from Yoongi.

“I had better not see any of you fucking whelps picking on him or any other omegas,” Namjoon roared, voice firm with authority with his chest puffed high, causing the bullies to scatter.

And although Yoongi had so much he wanted to say, when Namjoon asked if he was alright, all he could do in response was whimper a weak, “Uh-huh,” unable to find his words.

“I imagine this can’t be easy,” Namjoon finally said after a tense moment in the silent, fluorescent-lit hallway. “We can’t choose our circumstances, after all. But we can do our best with what we are given, one day at a time. Take care of yourself, Yoongi.”

And that was it; the only time his and Namjoon’s paths truly crossed. Yoongi would have been lying if he had said the event didn’t spark something inside him – the beginnings of a crush, perhaps – especially when he remembered the warm musk that wafted from the alpha with hints of sweet, kind tangerine and spicy, angry cinnamon.

But that was all it ever was…a crush. As soon as they graduated, Namjoon proposed to his girlfriend, and Yoongi left the city to pursue a life in nursing.

During the last few years, Yoongi has been working as a surrogate, assisting wealthy couples through their difficult times by lending his body to help conceive a child. Although it is always a bit awkward to be a presence in their homes, he enjoys the work. Yoongi likes to help others. The need to comfort and fix people is strong – overwhelming at times.

Naturally, when the call came to help one of the most affluent families in Seoul have a baby, Yoongi did not hesitate, nor did he know what to expect. He had, after all, left Seoul to live closer to his mom's small farmhouse near Daegu, and stopped worrying himself over who any of the wealthier families were.

So, on the car ride to town, when Yoongi read the names Kim Namjoon and Jung Wheein on the paperwork he almost did not believe his eyes. Surely, the Kim Namjoon and Jung Wheein he knew eight years ago could not be struggling with having a child. If anyone would have a happy, healthy, and typical family, he figures it would have been those two sweethearts.

“Earth to Yoongi,” a soft, stern voice calls, pulling Yoongi from his reverie.

Yoongi stands at the foot of the entrance of a rather impressive hanok on the outskirts of the city. He had spaced out during most of the ride, daydreaming about the only time he and Namjoon came face to face. Even now, standing at the man’s front door, he struggles to accept it, half expecting someone else to greet them.

“What does he do for a living?” Yoongi mutters under his breath as he joins his boss, a soft-spoken beta named Park Jimin, near the front door.

Jimin scoffs and shakes his head, causing his fluffy dark hair and shimmering silver earrings to wave back and forth from the motion, as he responds, “He’s the mayor, baby,” while placing a comforting hand on the small of Yoongi’s back – something he does when he expects Yoongi to overreact.

And overreact, he does.

“The may—“ Yoongi half-shouts before Jimin gently shushes him.

“But why—“ Yoongi continues, dropping his voice to a whisper, “—why didn’t you tell me? Jimin, why did you leave that detail out?”

“You know I love you because you’re the best, right?” Jimin asks, rubbing his palm over Yoongi’s back in circles, buttering him up before delivering the truth, as is his way.

“Right,” Yoongi responds slowly, nodding his head while his eyes lose focus on the cinnamon-brown wooden door before him.

“You’re sweet, caring, and very respectful,” Jimin continues, still very much not reaching the point. "Very discrete."

“Okay,” Yoongi huffs, “and?”

With a sigh, Jimin drops his voice lower and leans close, muttering, “I believe they asked for you specifically because you’re a man. They seem concerned about any of this reaching the media, so we have kept it all hush-hush, and I wonder if they do not want to be seen with a woman living in the house for the next year.”

“Oh.”

“The wife, she’s—“

“No, no, I get it,” Yoongi says, feeling a bit sullen.

Being chosen because he is a man is always a bit disheartening. Typically, as far as Yoongi can tell, it comes from the wife worrying that their husband may develop feelings for their surrogate, despite the process typically being a simple matter of collecting sperm and egg from each party and having them placed into Yoongi’s uterus using an in vitro process. At most, Yoongi has to stay in the homestead to carry the baby to term, sleeping with bedding that smells of the alpha of the house. Infidelity has never been an issue. In fact, most households treat Yoongi as if he hardly exists until the baby is finally born.

Yoongi performs his tasks dutifully and with the utmost care and respect, and for once, it would be nice to be recognized for his skills and abilities, and not for his gender. But, Yoongi grins and bears it. He is simply happy to be able to help.

“Ready?” Jimin asks, and Yoongi nods, feeling as ready as he could be, at this point.

Jimin removes his hand from Yoongi’s back, takes a step forward, and knocks on the door. And then they wait. A homestead this size must take a while to traverse through, and Yoongi crosses his hands over his tummy and twiddles his thumbs in anticipation, wondering if Namjoon will even recognize him.

When the door opens, a tall unfamiliar man with wide, curious eyes and short, somewhat wavy dark brown hair greets them with a bow of his head. For a split moment, Yoongi almost wonders if this could be Namjoon – if the names are merely coincidence. But then Wheein – the Jung Wheein Yoongi remembers from all those years ago, with long, dark hair and curious almond eyes – pops up from behind the man and smiles widely, waving them in.

Jimin enters first, then Yoongi, kicking off his sneakers and following as Wheein leads the mystery man, Jimin, and Yoongi through a foyer, past a kitchen, and into what looks like a study. The four of them take a seat on soft purple cushions around a large, low wooden table with a teapot and four cups in the center, with Wheein across from Yoongi and Jimin to his right.

“Min Yoongi,” Wheein beams as she sits high on her knees and reaches over the low table, emitting a calming bouquet of lavender.

Yoongi offers his hands to her, smiling as she takes them and squeezes them between both of hers. There is an unmissable sadness in her eyes, but she smiles widely as she pats his hands before letting them go.

“When I read your name on the list of potential surrogates, I just knew it had to be you,” she continues, taking Yoongi by surprise. He and Wheein have never, to his knowledge, said a word to one another.

“You did?” Yoongi asks, deep voice trembling slightly as he settles his hands over his knees.

Wheein nods enthusiastically while the man to Yoongi’s left begins to pour tea for the four of them.

“I just had a feeling. You went into nursing, right? You like to help others?”

With a demure nod, Yoongi says, “Yes,” surprised to find Wheein remembers him, and that she knows details of his life. He dreads the thought that Namjoon might, as well.

“I just knew you would be perfect for us,” she continues as her eyes travel to the man sitting at Yoongi’s left. “Don’t you think so, Jeonggukie?”

The man nods his head once, eyes fixed on Jimin as he mutters, “Yes, Wheein-ssi.”

“This is our in-house help, Jeon Jeongguk,” Wheein says, patting the hand of Jeongguk, who responds, “Lovely to meet you,” without taking his eyes off Jimin.

Yoongi mutters a greeting under his breath but does not bother trying to get the man’s attention; he is more than aware of the effect Jimin has on others. Instead, Yoongi picks up his small ceramic tea cup and holds it to his lips, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. The faintly-earthy taste of herbs and leaves covers his tongue with warmth, instantly soothing at least some of his worries. Certainly not all of them.

“Sorry Namjoon couldn’t join us,” Wheein says with a hint of annoyance in her voice, cracking a smile that looks forced and does not reach far. Earthy, bitter hints of patchouli hang in the air as she chuckles under her breath as she mutters, “Gods forbid he leaves his precious office for one fucking meeting with our surrogate.”

Yoongi shifts on his knees and takes another sip from the cup. Meanwhile, everyone around him lifts their cups to drink, and he is relieved to see Jimin’s spell on Jeongguk seems at least temporarily be broken, allowing the three of them to have a conversation with Jeongguk present and quiet.

“I figure that for the first week, you’ll stay by my side and bond with me a little,” Wheein begins, surprising Yoongi with how suddenly she wants to get down to business, “and then we’ll knock you up and have you stay in a guesthouse that is scented like Namjoon so that the baby knows who his or her daddy is.”

“Pretty standard stuff,” Jimin mutters beside him, and Yoongi smiles as he nods along.

Wheein’s candor feels welcoming to Yoongi. The last two couples he worked with were rather depressed and embarrassed to need assistance with having a baby. It is his hope that, in the next ten or eleven months, he and Wheein can become close friends, making his stay in the large homestead a little less lonely.

"Do you remember Namjoon at all?" Wheein asks eagerly.

Yoongi glances over the teacup that he holds near his mouth, breathing in its comforting aroma, and he screws up his face just slightly enough to seem impassive as he shrugs and says, "The name sounds familiar. Perhaps when I see him, I will remember."

A lie, of course. If Yoongi thinks hard enough, he can remember precisely what Namjoon smelled like the day they spoke. He thinks, faintly, that Namjoon may have even had a mole or two on one of his cheeks, and has never forgotten his dimples.

"Do you need some time to consider the job, or would you like to move in tonight?” Wheein asks once the four of them have had a chance to discuss specifics a little more and finish the pot of tea. “We will want to go over a few specifications on the contract once everyone is here, but it should be pretty standard."

"I can move in right away," Yoongi says without giving it any thought. The sooner they get started, the sooner it can be all over with, he reasons. He already has a suitcase packed and waiting in the car.

"Wonderful," Wheein says as she stands and waits for Yoongi to do the same.

Once Yoongi is on his feet, Jimin bows and wishes him well, saying they will meet again tomorrow when Namjoon is around to go over the contract. Jeongguk leads Jimin back out to the front door, standing quite close and muttering quietly as the two of them leave the room together.

"I can't wait for the two of us to become best friends," Wheein says sweetly as Yoongi steps from the table and joins her at her side, allowing her to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him into a side hug.

The smile that creeps over Yoongi's lips is genuine, and he allows himself to be hugged, lifting an arm to delicately caress her back for just a moment. He familiarizes himself with her scent of lavender with hints of patchouli – sweet with an undercurrent of spice and wet soil.

Wheein leads Yoongi into a large kitchen and sits him at the tall white marble counter. Yoongi marvels at the blend of traditional and modern, with the general foundation of the hanok resembling what it may have centuries ago despite the marble counters and stainless steel appliances.

"Let's make a list of all the things you love to eat, especially when you are in heat and when you are pregnant."

Although Yoongi cannot imagine why he would need to accommodate a heat cycle, he rattles off everything he can think of, making sure bases are covered. There is a chance that his pregnancy cravings will be similar to those he gets while in heat, once they inject the little cub cells into his uterus and the growing begins.

He also makes note of some herbs that he needs to avoid in order to not counteract the heat-blockers he takes, and Wheein smiles to herself as she circles ginger, ginseng, and sage while adding three large exclamation marks next to the words to signify what he must avoid.

About an hour passes with Yoongi and Wheein chatting in the kitchen about food, being pregnant, and anything else Wheein thinks of. She is great company, offering Yoongi white wine and keeping his glass topped off as they talk. He feels hopeful about his stay in her house, looking forward to getting to know her more as she opens up.

And then Namjoon returns home, and things…shift. It is subtle, but noticeable. Wheein's voice quiets when the front door opens, and she keeps her eyes on the foyer once the sounds of shoes getting kicked off thuds one after the other.

"Someone here?" a deep, familiar voice calls, causing Yoongi's skin to break out in goosebumps, and Namjoon steps around a corner, stopping in his tracks when he meets Yoongi's gaze.

Namjoon is just as tall as Yoongi remembers, and quite a bit more built, chest and arms bulging against the thin white shirt that covers him, which is tucked into fitted grey slacks. His hair is overgrown into a bit of a dark mullet, and he shakes it from his warm, sharp eyes, only for it to fall back in place again.

"Oh," he says. "It's you."

Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, lifting a hand to wave, but Namjoon mutters, "Should the two of you really be drinking?" while walking in the opposite direction, toward a hallway that Yoongi surmises must lead to the master suite, or perhaps to an office. The familiar scent of warm musk wafts through the air, with faint hints of cinnamon, and as soon as it is there, it is gone again.

Wheein lets out a petulant, "Humph!" and grabs the bottle of wine, dumping the rest of its contents between their two glasses as if in protest to Namjoon's question.

Then, as soon as the man of the house is down the hallway and disappears into a doorway off to the left, her face brightens once more, and she continues asking Yoongi about childbirth as if nothing had happened. Wheein is a curious woman, eager to know every gritty detail from cell growth to carrying a baby to term. And although Yoongi finds the process a little disgusting, he gladly answers all of her questions.

Tipsy from drinking and only having snacked on crackers and tiny slabs of cheese, Wheein decides that the night is over once the glasses of wine are empty. She takes Yoongi by the crook of an elbow and leads him over to the hall in which Namjoon disappeared.

"Bedrooms are here," Wheein says, waving her hand in the general direction of five doors – two on either side of the hallway and one at the far end. "That one on the end—" she points straight ahead, "—is the bathroom. And this—" she places her palm on the first door on the right and presses it open, "—is your bedroom. The bedding smells faintly like Namjoon so that you can get used to it. Hopefully you don't find it too unpleasant. In the morning, Park Jimin-ssi will return and we will go over the contract."

Yoongi nods along, smiling while staring ahead at the bathroom door, trying to imagine which door on the left Namjoon went through. Not that it is any of his business – nor should he care – but he is…curious. The Namjoon he encountered all those years ago seems so different from the terse man who Yoongi hardly caught sight or whiff of tonight.

"S-sounds good," Yoongi finally responds, and Wheein pulls him into a half-hug from the side before letting him go and walking straight across the hall, opening that door just enough to slip inside, and closing it softly behind, taking the lavender with hints of patchouli with her.

Yoongi hesitates a moment – hovers in place and holds his breath as if to listen for any sound to come from Namjoon through that door. But all is still, and Yoongi shifts left to right on his feet before turning to the guest room and feeling around the wall for a light switch.

The room is furnished with a bed, bedside table, dresser and mirror, and a wall-mounted television. Beside the dresser is Yoongi's suitcase, which he surmises Jeongguk must have brought inside, and above the suitcase is a large window. Yoongi approaches his suitcase, lays it down, and unzips it, finding a set of light blue pajamas, and running his fingertips over the soft flannel material as he looks around, taking in the sight of his temporary home.

How did he end up here, he wonders. Standing in the mayor's home – Kim Namjoon's home – wine drunk with Jung Wheein, the valedictorian who Yoongi was certain until this point had never been aware of his existence.

As he sheds his clothing and gets dressed in the pajamas, sleep begins to claw at Yoongi, pulling his subconscious down, and making him want nothing more than to crawl under the covers. He picks his clothing up from the floor, approaches the dresser, and tosses the garments into a small pile in the corner.

Outside the room, he thinks he hears the sound of a floorboard creek, and he stands still, listening for more movement. Seconds pass, heavy and full of anticipation, and Yoongi could swear the scent of tangerine and warm musk fills his senses, making him sway slightly where he stands.

But then, he reasons that it must just be the bedding that Wheein said would hold Namjoon's scent, and he brings his drifting thoughts to a stop, making his way to the bed and pulling the pale yellow covers aside to climb under.

Only in his wildest dreams would Namjoon be in the hallway, filling the space with more of his calming scent, and Yoongi tells himself that he needs to snap out of it and come back to reality before he gets too caught up pining for a married man he hardly knows.

But, for now, he shuts his eyes and allows himself to imagine.

Yoongi is barely alert, sitting at the tall dining table nursing a steaming cup of black coffee when Namjoon enters the room in what Yoongi surmises is his standard work uniform of a white button-up tucked into grey slacks, taking a seat to his right. The coffee is peculiar, giving off an herbal scent that Yoongi cannot quite place, but it is not unwelcoming, and he gulps some down, feeling his nerves spike.

Wheein sits in front of him, and to his left, Jimin is present and far too perky and alert considering the ungodly hour, wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses that rest at the end of his nose and a white button-up tucked into black slacks. The house-help Jeongguk, who is dressed in all-black casual clothing, busies himself in the kitchen.

"Now that we are all here," Namjoon begins, voice hoarse and far deeper than Yoongi remembers, causing the little hairs on his arms to stand to attention, "we have the final draft of the contract to look over."

Namjoon slides a small stack of papers to the center of the table, which Jimin shifts forward to collect, and their scents collide somewhere in the middle – warm musk, lilacs, tangerines, and a salty hint of sea breeze. Yoongi feels a wave of dizziness hit him, and he sits back, letting his coffee cup thunk a little too hard against the restored wooden table.

A delicate hand reaches over, tapping him on the wrist and adding tangy patchouli to the ever-engulfing blend of aromas, and Yoongi's eyes snap upward to find Wheein smiling with her brows knit.

"Are you alright, my dear?" she asks, and Yoongi nods, swallows a lump, and mutters, "Fine. S-still waking up, I guess."

Heat prickles under every inch of skin that is covered with clothing, making Yoongi shift uncomfortably and yearn for cool air or a nice cold shower. It is almost as if a heat is coming on, which is impossible, because of the medication he takes to block it.

"The only order of business in this contract that should differ from how your company ordinarily proceeds," Namjoon continues, ignoring the exchange between Yoongi and Wheein, "is the method of becoming pregnant."

At this, Yoongi sits alert and turns to Jimin, who is looking over the contract with too trained of an expression. Something is absolutely off, and Yoongi's heart begins to pound wildly in his chest.

"D-different method?" Yoongi asks, feeling as if the room is spinning and too fucking warm.

"My family is very…let's say…traditional," Namjoon clarifies, and Yoongi turns to him with wide, worried eyes, only to find that he is staring ahead at the table with a somewhat distraught look on his face. "Any insemination and childbirth practices need to be performed as rituals to the old gods and the new…if you catch my drift."

At this, Namjoon's eyes lift, but to Jimin, across from him. Yoongi turns sharply and finds his boss looking up at Namjoon before his eyes trail to Yoongi. A cloying mix of calming aromas wafts from every side of Yoongi, and he practically gags on it.

"Yoongi, baby," Jimin utters softly – sweetly, as if he knows that the information he has for Yoongi is going to send him into a tailspin. Only, Yoongi is already in a tailspin because he has just been told that, in order to perform the duties which he has been hired to perform, he and Namjoon are going to have to— "Are you still with us?"

"Did you…do something to my coffee?" Yoongi asks against his better judgment, feeling nausea creep at a rapid pace, clouding his vision in the corners.

At this, Wheein slams her hands on the table and stands, sending her chair grinding backward while shouting, "What did you just say?"

"I'm s— I'm sorry," Yoongi tries, placing his palms face-down on the table and gripping tightly to the edge. He feels like he might vomit, and he needs to find his way out of this conversation.

"How dare you accuse us of such a thing!" Wheein continues, voice fading in and out as if Yoongi's head is bobbing above and below water.

"Sir," Jeongguk speaks softly, placing a hand on Yoongi's shoulder that feels too hot to the touch. "Could this reaction possibly be from the herbal blend?"

"H-herbal blend?" Yoongi asks, feeling panic quake through him.

Yoongi's mouth feels terribly dry, and he picks up the coffee, pulling it to his lips and gulping the tepid bitter liquid down. Perhaps he should ask for water instead, but his body is drenched, his mouth is parched, and he can hardly form his thoughts coherently enough to turn them into words. He can practically feel a new layer of sweat break over his forehead, and he sets the cup down with shaking hands while reaching up to push the overgrown dark brown hair away from his forehead.

Jeongguk hums and says, "The herbal blend that Wheein-ssi likes me to add to her coffee and tea contains extract of ginger, ginseng, and sage. I saw that on your list and assumed you would like more than what was added to your tea last night, so I gave you twice the amount."

The sweat that covers Yoongi goes cold, and he sits up suddenly, knocking the wooden chair onto its back in the process, glancing up at the occupants of the table to see if perhaps this is some joke they are playing on him. Jimin appears horrified, Namjoon stares down at the wooden table, and Wheein's eyes widen. She looks to Jeongguk with knit brows, shaking her head in small movements, and something in her expression suggests he should not have said what he just said.

"But, Wheein-ssi, your list—"

"Jeonggukah, those were items Yoongi was not supposed to consume!"

"But we want him to go into heat, so he becomes pregnant," Jeongguk continues innocently, forcing Yoongi to spin on the balls of his feet to stumble out of the room.

The air is stifling, the room is spinning, and Yoongi is going to vomit any minute. He fumbles toward the hallway, stepping through the threshold just in time for the corridor to stretch impossibly long. Before he knows it, he is on his hands and knees, barely aware of the feeling of his impact against the floor, doing his best to crawl to where he needs to go.

"Alright, you," Jimin's voice greets Yoongi, causing tears to well in his eyes. "Let's get you on your feet."

Yoongi feels embarrassed, having made a terrible impression on the family for which he has been hired to surrogate. Surely, someone like Namjoon is not going to want a weak, sniveling omega in his home, carrying his child. And the idea that Yoongi will have to do everything the traditional way sends a new set of fears quaking through him.

Despite his line of work, Yoongi has never had sex with an alpha. He has never experienced a knot, nor has he been marked in any way. Everyone at the clinic assured him that folks these days do not tend to have traditional pregnancies, so Yoongi assumed it would not be an issue. Or, at the very least, he assumed the conversation would take place before he was sat in their home, drinking their herbal-infused coffee.

Yoongi smells the musk before he feels two large hands lift him, and he yelps when he is suddenly up on his feet with his arm draped over the muscular shoulders of Namjoon, who is crouched forward to accommodate his height.

"Bathroom is straight ahead," Namjoon mutters, and Jimin scurries forward, opening the door and switching on a light while Namjoon assists Yoongi in walking down the hallway.

The musk is far more overpowering than anything Yoongi has experienced, radiating from Namjoon's neck and armpit, blanketing him in warm intoxication, and Yoongi leans his head to the side, eager for more. He wonders what Namjoon's sweat must taste like, licking his lips at the thought.

But then Namjoon gets him through the doorway and maneuvers him against the sink with his butt resting against cold marble, and he slides away, taking much of the musk with him, only allowing hints laced with cinnamon and tangerine to linger.

Yoongi can hear rustling – the opening and closing of a cabinet door and the running of water behind him – all while the blend of scents from Namjoon and Jimin mingle and dance through the small space. Yoongi's eyes rest closed, and he breathes deeply in through his nose, letting the air escape shakily through his mouth.

"I didn't mean to accuse—" Yoongi begins, but Jimin shushes him at the same time a cold cloth is pressed against his forehead.

"I imagine all of this is…a lot for you," Namjoon says softly, taking Yoongi by surprise. He expected Jimin to be the one with calming words, not the gruff alpha who hasn't so much as looked him in the eyes since their so-called meeting began.

Yoongi keeps his eyes closed, determined not to ruin the moment. If this is the only way he can get the man to speak to him, then so be it.

"I really like Wheein-ssi," Yoongi continues, knitting his brows beneath the cold cloth. It feels nice and pulls him from the jumble of physical and emotional overstimulation, grounding him somewhat while his own scent of chamomile engulfs and calms him. "I hope that I didn't hurt her feelings."

"We'll talk more once you're feeling better," Namjoon says.

Yoongi wants to open his eyes and look at the man – really search his expression for how he must be feeling – but he keeps his eyes closed and lets out a deep exhale.

"If you change your mind about doing this—" Namjoon continues, and Yoongi shakes his head.

Long ago, when Yoongi was too weak to stand up for himself, Namjoon was the one who helped him. Namjoon was his beacon of hope in a dark, confusing time, and Yoongi wants to repay him in any way he can – in the only way he can.

"I won't change my mind," is all he can bring himself to say, eager to keep his emotions at bay, lest a spike in pheromones tattles on him. At some point, he and Namjoon are going to need to have a conversation.

There is the question of why Wheein never said anything last night, when she and Yoongi were making their list. She had to have known that the three ingredients that Yoongi stressed he could not have were in the herbal blend that he presumes has been added to both his tea and his coffee. Was she hoping to force Yoongi into a heat cycle as soon as possible?

Whatever the reason, Yoongi is concerned, but he is certain that her intent could not have been malicious, and so he lets it go. Perhaps they will discuss it down the line, but for now, he just wants to lie down. He has no idea how long it may take for the herbal mixture to induce a heat, and he is not eager to be standing in the bathroom with his boss and an alpha who he hardly knows, when the time comes.

The herbal blend causes Yoongi's entire system to go haywire quickly. Perhaps it is because he only allows for a heat to come after giving birth before continuing on the blockers – about once a year – making his body desperate for a cycle, but he hardly gets through the afternoon before every inch of him yearns for Namjoon.

The alpha's scent on his bedding drives Yoongi wild, and he rubs his face against his pillow almost frantically, letting out soft whimpers and growls when it is not enough to stave his desires. There is a part of him that wonders if anyone might be able to overhear him, and shame simmers just beneath his skin. But he is so overcome with desperation that he cannot bring himself to care very much.

Yoongi must fall asleep at some point, because a light knock at the door rouses him, causing him to sit up with a start, groaning and wiping drool from his chin.

"Yoongi-ssi?" Jeongguk's voice calls through the door. "Would you like to join us for dinner?"

Although Yoongi would like nothing more than to eat something, and to sit in the presence of Namjoon’s inviting scent, leaving the room and being present in front of everyone feels daunting, at best. Overwhelming. He is not ashamed of his body's natural functions, but he feels hesitant to encounter people he hardly knows when his hormones are running amuck.

Another soft knock comes, and Yoongi clears his throat before hoarsely shouting, "N-no thank you."

After a pause, there is another knock at the door, but this one sounds different – more purposeful.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon calls. "Can I come in?"

Suddenly, faced with the prospect of being in Namjoon's presence makes Yoongi panic, and he curls in on himself, tugging the yellow comforter over his body and up to his chin.

"I—" Yoongi calls back, eyes searching the room aimlessly while he tries to think of something to say. "Now isn't the best time."

Yoongi is unsure if he hears a sigh on the other side of the door, and he listens for an indication that Namjoon has walked away. To his chagrin, Namjoon responds.

"Are you indecent? Can I at least crack the door open?"

"Fine," Yoongi replies, screwing his eyes closed to take a deep, fortifying breath.

The door opens a few inches, and with the head of the bed against the same wall, Namjoon only has to peek in a little for their gazes to meet. Although it is subtle, Yoongi sees Namjoon's nostrils flare and eyes widen.

"I'm—" Yoongi feels apologetic and shy, "s-sorry, I guess my heat has come."

"Don't apologize," Namjoon responds, voice sounding a bit hazier than Yoongi is used to. "Just wanted to make sure you don't need anything. I can have Jeongguk bring you some food and a cup of tea. Do you usually take any medications?"

"I don’t usually take medicines," Yoongi responds softly. Ordinarily, he gets the typical hot flashes and neediness; cramping is rare. He tends to it by holing up in his apartment and drinking herbal teas that quell some of the more primal instincts; he has no idea what it is like to go into heat surrounded by the alluring stench of an alpha. "Do you have any hibiscus tea?"

Namjoon's face disappears, and then Jeongguk appears, making Yoongi clench onto his blanket in disappointment.

"Hibiscus tea, got it." Jeongguk responds. "I can make you a pot of kimchi soup if you would like?"

Although Yoongi would rather turn away the offer of anything more than a cup of tea, already feeling like a burden in someone else's home, the thought of the tangy, rich broth and a bowl of steamed rice makes his stomach growl loudly.

"That would be nice," Yoongi responds, squeezing his eyes tight to the sound of the door closing quietly. "Thank you."

Yoongi has no idea how long it takes for Jeongguk to return. It feels like only seconds pass, yet some of them could have been stretched for eons. The atmosphere around Yoongi is thick with tense confusion and desire, and he has no fucking clue how to proceed.

A knock at the door startles Yoongi, and he sits up, pushing and kicking the yellow comforter away, embarrassed by how his body oozes with the heady scent of pomegranate, tangy and clinging to the air with trace amounts of chamomile. His limbs wobble, heavy and shaking like a tree caught in a storm, and it takes him a moment to catch his breath once he is on his feet.

"Just a second," Yoongi grumbles, adjusting the white tee that has come untucked from his fitted light blue jeans. The materials cling to him, and he avoids checking his reflection in the mirror across the room.

Yoongi opens the door a crack, just enough to see through. He does not miss the way Jeongguk's nostrils flare and eyes widen as he takes in the state of Yoongi. And although he feels embarrassed suddenly to be perceived this way, he swallows a lump and opens the door further to reach for the tray in Jeongguk's hands.

"Why don't you let me bring it in?" Jeongguk offers, making Yoongi feel even more put on the spot than before. But Jeongguk has a good point. After all, the tray contains two items storing hot liquid, and Yoongi is just jittery enough to make the task extremely precarious.

Yoongi nods and grumbles, "Oh–okay," as he takes a step back and allows Jeongguk to enter the room, closing the door quickly behind him. He is not eager for Namjoon or Wheein to smell him in this state – not until he can shower.

"Your heat must have come on fast," Jeongguk states evenly as he walks to the bed and places the tray on top. It is wooden, with four small legs, creating a nice little table atop the ruffled comforter. With him, a light floral scent carries through the space.

"Yeah," Yoongi responds sheepishly, hugging his arms around himself. "I use the same herbal mixture to induce a heat once a year, and typically only one cup of tea does the trick."

Jeongguk turns with wide eyes, repeating, "Once a year?"

"Typically, my job is done in vitro," Yoongi explains, eyes trailing around the room, unable to settle on one spot. "I find that it is best if my hormones are kept under control. I only induce a heat once the baby has been delivered, to help my body restart, and then I take heat-blockers once the cycle ends."

"Ahhh," Jeongguk mutters. "Well, I am quite used to helping Wheein-ssi through her heats, so if there is anything you need, don't be shy."

Yoongi is surprised by this information. Shouldn't the alpha of the house be helping Wheein? Jeongguk – who, Yoongi surmises, must be a beta – seems like lovely help, but is he really capable of helping Wheein with all of her needs? The man hardly has a scent, only radiating hints of something sweet and floral that Yoongi cannot place.

"Thank you, Jeongguk-ssi," Yoongi responds with a bow of his head. "I appreciate all you have done for me, already."

Silence hangs, and when Yoongi glances up, it seems as if Jeongguk has more that he would like to say. He stares ahead, clearly processing something, with his lips hanging slack. But then he blinks heavily and gives his head a little shake before saying, "Also, when you are ready to, Namjoon would like to meet with you to go over the contract and discuss a timeline."

"Oh," Yoongi says, realizing they never finalized it earlier. "Yes, of course."

"His phone number is on a little slip of paper, sitting beside your rice," Jeongguk instructs with one more bow of his head. "Please text him at your earliest convenience."

Texting Namjoon rather than knocking on a door seems somewhat silly, but Yoongi does not argue. He supposes he is grateful to have a simple way to get in touch with him that also allows for there to be some distance.

Jeongguk exits the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and Yoongi lets out a deep breath and rubs his sweaty palms against his jeans. The smell of the soup and tea dance beautifully, covering enough of Namjoon's lingering musk to allow Yoongi's head to clear as he approaches the bedside table and picks up his phone.

He settles slowly onto the bed, careful not to jostle the tray, and finds the small piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it. The numbers are clean with very straight lines and circular loops, and Yoongi lifts it before he can think better of it, sniffing the paper, picking up hints of tangerine and cinnamon. So this is Namjoon's handwriting, Yoongi thinks, inspecting it closer. It looks nice.

A soft haze settles over Yoongi – a humming that vibrates just below his skin – and he takes a slow breath as he begins to punch Namjoon's number into his phone. He considers all the things he could say to the man, worrying in circles over whether he should apologize for his entire existence. In the end, he settles for something simple.

Yoongi Hello, Namjoon-ssi. This is Yoongi. Jeongguk-ssi mentioned you wanted to talk with me.

With a tremble in his hands, he sets his phone down and begins to eat. Jeongguk brought kimchi soup, rice, glass noodles, and a cup of hibiscus tea, and everything is flavored perfectly – savory with tangy and sweet notes here and there, the way mom makes it. Although the soup and tea are both hot, they soothe Yoongi, putting his hot flashes at bay. He is nearly done with his meal and feeling much calmer than before, when his phone vibrates.

Namjoon Yoongi-ssi, I would like to meet at your earliest convenience. No rush; eat first.

Yoongi has to scoff at how stuffy Namjoon seems, even over text. He supposes he is the one who set the tone in the first place, but he has to wonder if the detached alpha would text the same way, regardless. Yoongi nibbles on the inside of his cheek, deciding what would be best. On one hand, he hates to keep someone waiting, but on the other…he cannot decide whether he wants to face Namjoon smelling the way he does.

Yoongi Perhaps after I freshen up a bit? A fever hit earlier, and I am not at my best.

Before Yoongi has a chance to set his phone down, it vibrates; he is surprised by how quickly Namjoon responds.

Namjoon Of course. Take your time! I usually go for late jogs, so if I am not in the house, I'll be out back. You are welcome to join me if you would like.

Namjoon's hanok is situated at the end of a suburban area, with enough land between his place and the nearby houses to have seclusion. Perfect for an alpha who likes to let off some steam in a bit of nature. Although Yoongi does not jog often, the primal part of him loves to get lost in the thick of trees, listening to branches crunch underfoot while he exerts himself and lets his worries breeze away. Perhaps jogging with Namjoon is just what he needs.

Yoongi A jog would be nice. I'll shower now and join you in just a bit.

Namjoon Sounds good.

Yoongi makes quick work of finishing his food, suddenly feeling excited at the prospect of getting some fresh air. He grabs a pair of black joggers and a black tee, and leaves the room, turning briefly to see Wheein and Jeongguk sharing a glass of wine in the kitchen. He wonders if Namjoon is already getting dressed and waiting, and scurries to the bathroom at the end of the hall, closing the door tight behind him and switching on the light.

Yoongi peels the sweat-drenched clothing away and drops them into a pile on the floor, then figures out the knobs of the shower, setting the water nice and temperate – not too hot – before slipping in. The water is a warm embrace, instantly shedding some of Yoongi's anxieties, and he smiles to himself, tipping his head back with his eyes closed, allowing the steady spray to wash over him.

After a few calming moments, Yoongi peeks his head from the shower curtain to find small cloths folded on a shelf at eye level and grabs one, then assesses the bottles for body wash. To his surprise, everything smells like chamomile or tangerine, making Yoongi chuckle. He wonders if it is a coincidence or if they planned for this. Had Namjoon remembered what Yoongi smelled like, after all this time?

Yoongi scrubs his body with chamomile, then washes and conditions his hair with tangerine. Once he is satisfied, he stands under the stream with his eyes closed for another twenty seconds or so, then shuts off the water, pokes an arm past the shower curtain, and grabs a large towel from the same eye level shelf. He dries off quickly, then changes into his clean clothing and shoots a text off to Namjoon.

Yoongi Just finished showering. Are you inside or outside?

Namjoon I’m still inside. Meet in the hallway?

Yoongi See you there.

Yoongi brushes his teeth and slaps some moisturizer on his face – beauty products courtesy of Namjoon and Wheein – then hangs up his towel and grabs his discarded clothing, which reek of tangy pomegranate. He scrunches his nose, tired of smelling it.

When he exits the shower, Namjoon is standing in the hallway, and the sight of him makes Yoongi halt in place, nearly tripping over his feet. He wears a tight black tank top and black athletic shorts that stop mid-thigh. And oh, Namjoon's thighs…He knew Namjoon was ripped, but seeing him in athletic wear is something else altogether.

Yoongi has to force his eyes up and tell himself that staring is impolite. But the man is built like a sturdy tree that Yoongi finds himself wanting to climb — a dangerous thought, and one he brushes off as a product of his heat.

He is relieved to find Namjoon turning his attention from the phone in his hands to him only after he finishes ogling him, and Yoongi clears his throat quietly before making his way down the hall.

"Just gonna toss these clothes into the room quick," Yoongi mutters as he approaches.

Namjoon regards him with a brief nod, then continues typing on his phone, and Yoongi opens the door to the room and slips in, tossing the clothing toward the bed and grabbing a pair of sneakers before returning, doing his best to keep his stench of pheromones and sweat trapped.

When he returns, Namjoon is standing straight up with his arms at his sides, and his head tipped slightly back. His eyes are closed, and he appears to be taking a deep breath in through his nose, filling his lungs. Yoongi wonders if he does this to get into a proper headspace to run – calmly intake oxygen to help his muscles relax.

But when Namjoon opens his eyes and looks at Yoongi, his pupils are blown wide and there is something burning in his gaze that causes Yoongi to instinctively take a step back. The way Namjoon looks at him makes Yoongi feel vulnerable and exposed. If he didn't know any better, he would think the alpha wants to eat him.

Namjoon heavy-blinks and clears his throat, dispelling the tension between them, and turns to exit the hallway. To the left, through the main living room, is a door that appears to lead to the back of the property. Namjoon approaches, bends to pick up a pair of shoes beside the exit, and begins putting them on, while Yoongi slides into his sneakers, staying a good six feet or so away from Namjoon, trying his best not to get too much of a whiff of him, breathing primarily through his mouth.

By the time Namjoon straightens out, Yoongi is finishing up tying his second shoe. In the other room, Yoongi can hear Wheein and Jeongguk laughing together. He finds it a bit strange that Namjoon and Wheein do not seem to communicate much, but assumes that is how it is, sometimes. He wonders if being unable to conceive has put a strain on their marriage before deciding it is none of his business.

"Ready?" Namjoon asks, voice deeper and breathier than Yoongi remembers, making him stand alert.

"Yeah," Yoongi responds, sliding his hands into the pockets of his joggers as Namjoon opens the back door and steps outside, audibly taking a deep breath and sighing.

Yoongi nudges the door with his elbow on his way out, then half-turns to pull it closed quietly. The sun has already begun to set, painting the sky orange and pink, and there is a chill in the air that makes Yoongi scrunch his shoulders to his ears momentarily as he steps out onto the small wooden deck. It feels nice, and he rolls his shoulders back, taking in a deep breath of dirt, grass, and citrus.

"Shit," Namjoon mutters under his breath, turning back toward the house.

Yoongi hums and looks at Namjoon, feeling momentarily worried that something may be wrong.

"The contract," Namjoon clarifies, shifting in place as if he is unsure where he wants to be. "I wanted to go over the terms and finalize everything, but I left it in the office."

"Ah," Yoongi says. He wonders if having a paper contract outside while they intend to exercise is practical in the first place, and suggests an alternative. "What if we discuss the terms, and when we return inside, we can sign it? I assume you have gone over everything, and I can give it a quick read."

Namjoon knits his brow, considering Yoongi's proposition, then nods. "Yeah," he says, eyes on the wooden floor of the deck rather than meeting Yoongi's gaze, "that sounds good."

Yoongi nods and takes in the scenery around him. Behind Namjoon's hanok, the land opens up to a large yard with an inground pool. Past the pool ahead is a wooded area, with thick trees and brush, and to the left is a small bungalow that he surmises must be the guesthouse. Yoongi wonders how much of the land belongs to Namjoon; how far they can run.

"This path zig-zags through the trees, out the other side," Namjoon explains as if reading his mind. "I like to run the path, and continue along the residential area on the other side, to a park that is a few miles away. We don't have to run the entire length…whatever you feel like."

"Sounds good," Yoongi responds, waiting for Namjoon to lead the way.

Namjoon walks ahead, down the three steps that lead to a path that wraps around the pool to the right and into the trees, slowly picking up his pace. Yoongi follows, then steps in pace with Namjoon. It is a leisurely jog, and Yoongi instantly feels a calm rush over him at the feeling of the evening wind in his shoulder-length hair, though he wishes he had brought a hair tie.

"The main clause in the contract is that we have to actually, er—" Namjoon begins, cutting himself off until only the sound of gunite underfoot can be heard.

"Procreate," Yoongi offers, cringing instantly at his choice of word.

Luckily, it makes Namjoon chuckle, lightening the mood. "Yes, procreate."

Silence falls between them, and they approach the edge of the wooded area before Namjoon asks, "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Yoongi takes a moment to answer, curious how forthcoming he should be with Namjoon. He wonders if it is necessary for the alpha to know that he has never taken a knot before. Underfoot, the path becomes dirt with twigs and leaves crunching as they begin to jog past the edge of the trees.

"Not uncomfortable," Yoongi says, eyes on the path, which is more than wide enough for two. "I was a bit surprised, since that is different from how things are typically done these days, but I respect the old ways just as much as the new. As long as you and your wife are comfortable."

For the briefest of moments, Yoongi could swear Namjoon's cinnamon scent bitterly stings the air, but just as soon as it arrives, it is gone. It is not uncommon for the tangier or sharper of the smells someone has to be strongest when they are feeling heightened levels of irritation, anger, annoyance, depression, and so on. Briefly, Yoongi worries whether something he said bothered Namjoon.

"I am comfortable as long as you are," Namjoon responds somewhat tersely as they take a left turn and the path straightens out before turning right up ahead.

Again, silence falls, and Yoongi listens to the scurry of rodents and the soft calls of birds. To the right, through the wooded area, Yoongi can see more of the path. It appears to snake through the trees from right to left to right again with wooded areas in between. It is peaceful, and Yoongi is grateful that Namjoon invited him. For the first time since his heat began, he feels calm and in control of his own body.

Once his heat fully hits, he will not be so mobile. The first wave is a bit of a warning, ebbing and flowing before coming in full swing. In a day or two, he expects to lock himself in that small bedroom and hide away from everyone until it passes, or at least until they mate. Although omegas are most fertile while in heat, he and Namjoon still need to discuss a timeline for everything.

"Is there a good time for us to…" Yoongi trails off, taking the curve to the right and continuing in step beside Namjoon. He squeezes his eyes shut for a split second and curses himself for being so awkward; he is an adult, discussing a contractual agreement with another adult. Just because there is sex involved, does not mean he should struggle to discuss it.

"For us to…?" Namjoon asks when the silence draws on a little long.

The thought of laying sprawled out beneath Namjoon, looking up at him while his hair clings to his sweaty forehead flashes in Yoongi's mind, and all at once, he trips over his own feet and topples forward, knees and palms meeting the ground before he corrects himself. The tumble is small and hardly disrupts their pace, but Namjoon is close in an instant, filling his senses with tangerines and warm, calming musk.

"Are you alright?" Namjoon asks, voice low and soft, giving Yoongi goosebumps.

Yoongi hums in response, eager for Namjoon to not be quite so close, despite how much his body longs for him to touch him. They run in silence, snaking around to the left and to the right again, while Yoongi attempts to clear his head, and he is grateful for Namjoon's patience while he gathers his thoughts. Once they start reaching the end of the path, Yoongi takes in a fortifying breath.

"What I was going to ask is whether there is a good time for us to get started," Yoongi says, keeping his eyes ahead. "On the whole…er…process."

"The procreation," Namjoon adds, and Yoongi wonders if there is a playful tone to his voice, but he does not want to face the man and check his expression.

"Yes," he says, cracking a soft smile. "The procreation."

As they come around the final curve, the treeline ends, opening up to a well-trodden grassy area. Up ahead is a round cul-de-sac and sidewalk that leads to a residential neighborhood, and further down, there appears to be a playground of some sort.

"Whenever you feel most comfortable," Namjoon says, which, if Yoongi is being honest, is not the most helpful statement.

Yoongi hums and glances around, not very focused on anything in particular; more eager than anything to get a plan of some sort finalized.

"Well, I am already at your house and more or less ready to begin," Yoongi huffs, finally feeling the exertion of the run. "You are the one with the career, so really, it is up to you, depending on how hands-on you would like to be. And if you would rather wait for my heat to be over, we can."

The sound that comes from Namjoon is somewhere between a hum and a groan, and Yoongi is unsure how to parse it, but certain that he would rather pretend he never heard it. All the little hairs on his body stand at attention, and he does his best not to trip on his own feet again.

"It may be best if we wait until after," Namjoon finally responds. The soft tone of voice has returned, and it does wonders for Yoongi's already wild imagination. "Not to be dismissive or anything, but since omegas tend to get…shall we say…needy during their heats, I should probably keep my distance."

At this, Yoongi laughs – a burst at first that blooms into something melodic and impossible to contain. Namjoon lets out a surprised sound before he, too, chuckles, and Yoongi slows their run to a stop in order to catch his breath.

"What is it?" Namjoon asks, laughter in his voice.

For the first time since coming outside, Yoongi allows himself to glance at Namjoon. He realizes too late that he made a mistake when a sheen of sweat that glistens on Namjoon's neck is hit just right by the streetlights and diminishing sun rays, making his golden skin shine. Namjoon cracks a hint of a smile, watching Yoongi as if he is waiting for a response; Yoongi has no idea why they were laughing, anymore, brain muddled by the alpha's beauty.

"Uh—" Yoongi mutters, pulling his eyes from Namjoon to glance around and attempt to clear his head. "What were we talking about?"

Namjoon scoffs and reaches up, leaning into Yoongi's personal space and taking him by surprise. When Namjoon's warm hand comes into contact with Yoongi's forehead, it makes him freeze in place.

"Do you have a fever or something, omega?" Namjoon asks, moving his hand to Yoongi's cheek as if comparing the two temperatures.

Yoongi ducks dramatically to the side, swatting at the air, doing his best not to touch the alpha who evidently has no respect for personal space.

"Excuse you," he grumbles, watching as Namjoon cracks more of a smile, cheeks delicately dimpled. "I feel fine, for the most part. Just…I don't know…I'm tired."

A lie; Yoongi is not remotely tired. In fact, this run has him feeling more invigorated than he has in months.

"We were discussing the possibility of waiting until after your heat," Namjoon responds somewhat under his breath. He averts his gaze to the road, and Yoongi wonders if the topic of conversation actually makes him feel shy.

"Ah," Yoongi says, remembering Namjoon saying he would become needy and feeling warmth flood to his cheeks. There is a part of him that feels disappointed that Namjoon will want to keep all of his strong, calming alpha scents away when Yoongi desires them most, but he does his best to tamp those thoughts down and remind himself once again that Namjoon is not his.

But what if Namjoon were his, Yoongi's heat-addled mind suggests, unhelpfully. What if, just once, Namjoon could cradle him the way he needs while he fights through his heat? What if Namjoon enveloped him in a warm cocoon of spicy-citrus heaven?

Warmth rushes through Yoongi at a dizzying pace, making his chest feel tight, and he takes a deep intake of cool night air, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the sky. Suddenly, his limbs feel al dente and ready to collapse, and his heart pounds.

"You alright?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi notices his own tangy scent of pomegranate permeating the air.

"Y-yeah," Yoongi responds, turning back toward the house. "Just got hit by a hot flash. I might head back to the house."

"Alright," Namjoon mutters, taking a step closer, emitting a soothing wave of musk. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Yes, Yoongi thinks. He would love for Namjoon to come with him. Only, he fixates on Namjoon towering over him, sweaty and eager to placate his hormonal urges, which is the opposite of what Namjoon can do for him.

"No, I'm good," Yoongi insists. "I'll see you back there."

Yoongi does not wait for Namjoon to respond before he begins jogging toward the trees. Although the cool night air is relaxing, Yoongi feels warm and worn out. He worries his knees might give way, but he presses ahead. The sound of Namjoon's feet jogging in the opposite direction can be heard, and once the lingering scent of tangerine fades, Yoongi lets out a deep breath, slowing down to intake air uninhabited by him.

Being in the presence of Namjoon almost feels like a pull – like there is an invisible string connecting them, causing Yoongi to get caught in Namjoon's gravity. Yoongi wonders again what life might be like if Namjoon were his to orbit. He knows the thought is silly, and it does nothing to tamp the wave of loneliness he feels as he picks up his pace and jogs back toward the large home alone.

He takes it slow, not entirely eager to return too soon before Namjoon. Although Wheein was nice to him last night, her behavior this morning and distance all day has Yoongi feeling unsure of what to think of her. It must be strange to have another person in the house, and Yoongi can only imagine how she must be feeling knowing that he and Namjoon will have to mate the traditional way. Still, he cannot help but wonder if she really meant it last night when she said they would become friends.

Yoongi enters the trees and takes a deep breath of fresh air, letting it settle in his lungs before it rattles out with each movement of his legs. Without Namjoon’s musk, Yoongi feels a bit brighter, oxygen coming to him a little easier. He follows the path and curves to the left, glancing through the trees to his left, toward the residential area for a glimpse of Namjoon, finding a distant figure that may be moving toward him.

He wonders if it is possible for Namjoon to have already run to the end of his route, and glances again, seeing him advance quickly from between the trees. Briefly, Yoongi imagines Namjoon as his alpha coming to give chase and capture him, and instantly, his pheromones spike, creating a cloying plume of chamomile with hints of pomegranate.

“Gods damn it,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, feeling embarrassed by the possibility of Namjoon catching up and running straight through the scent.

But then he imagines Namjoon sniffing the air with blown pupils that blaze with a fire just for Yoongi. Perhaps he has worked up even more of a sweat – dewy and dripping, tasting salty-sweet. The thought stirs arousal in Yoongi’s tummy, and although it is a small amount, he can both feel and smell the slick that he produces – a headier, muskier mixture of his scents.

With a groan, Yoongi follows the path around to the right and picks up the pace. No longer is he concerned with returning alone and having to face Wheein. Now he just wants to get back to the room and bury himself under the warm, soft blankets that smell just like the alpha he cannot stop thinking about, contract be damned.

Yoongi begins to huff and grunt as he jogs on. The small amount of slick he has produced feels uncomfortable, and the more he dwells on it, the more his pheromones seem to seep into the air, clinging all around him like a mist. He wonders if it would be excessive to take another shower.

As he follows the path around one more curve, Yoongi hears a branch snap to his left, in the direction from which Namjoon runs, and he turns his head to find Namjoon running straight through the trees, toward him. Fear and adrenaline spike in Yoongi, and he picks up the pace, running faster. If this is a game Namjoon is playing with him, Yoongi is unsure whether he finds it amusing.

Another branch snaps, this one much closer, and Yoongi turns his head to find Namjoon leaping out from the wooded area, onto the path behind him, watching him with wide eyes and a stance that almost looks like Namjoon is going to get onto all fours and give animalistic chase. Yoongi turns his gaze ahead and approaches the next curve in the road, taking it rather quickly and checking to see that he is not too far from the house.

But as soon as Yoongi is around the bend, Namjoon is ahead, exiting the wooded area and running straight for him. Yoongi falters in his steps and nearly trips over himself, then he veers off the path and begins to run through the last strip of woods in the direction of the Hanok. The sounds of leaves and twigs underfoot snap loudly, causing Yoongi's heart to pound impossibly harder, and he runs as if his life depends on it, hopping over fallen branches and zig-zagging around trees.

And then he trips. Yoongi's right ankle gets caught on a large branch, and he falls forward, bracing himself for impact with his hands outstretched. He feels foolish and confused, heart booming loudly in his ears, and more than anything he just wants to get away from this stupid fucking path and out of all of this nature.

Just as Yoongi's already sore palms hit uneven ground, two strong, warm arms wrap around him and yank him back. Before he can make sense of anything, Yoongi is firmly pressed against the thick trunk of a maple tree. Namjoon's arms cage Yoongi in, hands on either side of his face, and he leans in close, loudly sniffing the air around them.

"N-Namjoon?" Yoongi mutters as his entire body trembles.

From this proximity, the aura of musk and tangerine is strong and sweet – intoxicating. His eyelids flutter shut as more pungent slick is produced, feeling a primal calm wash over him despite being caught by a man who had just given chase.

"What are you doing?" he tries, tilting his head away from Namjoon, who continues to sniff him.

"Smells so good," Namjoon groans after a pause, voice deep and lust-laced.

Yoongi wants to shove Namjoon away and continue back to the hanok, but he finds he cannot move. The alpha's presence is strong and commanding, and Yoongi likes this attention from him; he likes the idea that his scent is alluring. And so he stands with his back pressed against the tree, panting through shattered breath as he attempts to even his heartbeat and ignore the flooding arousal that pools in his tummy.

Then, as if ripped from a trance, Namjoon stands straight up and blinks heavily, taking two steps back. He glances around at his surroundings and, with wide, apologetic eyes, he mutters, "S-sorry. I didn't mean to—that was an accident."

Yoongi clears his throat as disappointment builds and builds and crashes throughout him. He feels shipwrecked at sea – splintered wood left to drift aimlessly in open waters. Because of course, it was an accident; why would Namjoon desire him?

"It's fine," Yoongi responds as he peels himself away from the tree and slowly begins to walk back toward the path.

Namjoon leads the way, jogging without a glance back. Yoongi follows behind. Not another word is exchanged between them, and when Yoongi returns to the hanok, he kicks his shoes off and heads straight to the room.

Namjoon I left the contract on the dining room table. Please read it over and let me know if there is anything we need to amend. If everything looks good, we can sign it and work out a timeline. We discussed waiting until your heat is over, if you recall. Just let me know when the time comes, and we can begin making arrangements.

Yoongi blinks sleep from his eyes as he reads over Namjoon's message. The feral part of him wants to ignore everything contract-related and ask him just what the fuck happened last night, while they were jogging. Had Namjoon caught a whiff of Yoongi's arousal and begun to take chase without thinking? That is the only conclusion Yoongi is able to draw, and he has given it a lot of thought.

But Yoongi decides not to interrogate the alpha. It is not as if he can fully control his urges; some instincts are too primal. Just because his arousal may be inviting does not mean Namjoon wants him.

Yoongi gets dressed for the day and exits the room, feeling a sheen of dewy sweat cover him. He is warm and irritated, and he wants to grab some fruit and a cup of tea and return to bed. To his delight, only Jeongguk is in the kitchen, and as Yoongi approaches, the man turns quickly to face him with wide, curious eyes.

"What?" Yoongi grumbles, uncomfortable with the way Jeongguk's gaze roves over him. "Is there something on my face?"

Jeongguk blinks several times, then shakes his head, and says, "The smell," almost more to himself than to Yoongi.

With a grunt of acknowledgment, Yoongi approaches the dining table and finds the aforementioned contract, picking it up and glancing over it.

"Could I trouble you for some fruit and tea?" he asks softly, watching as Jeongguk – who seems to be preparing tofu – nods, and hums.

"Anything else?" Jeongguk asks, not turning around to address Yoongi directly.

"Nah," Yoongi responds as he turns and makes his way back to the room. "Feel free to shout and I'll come get it."

Yoongi hears Jeongguk hum in response, and he returns to the room and closes the door tightly behind him. He shuffles over to the bed and has a seat, then begins to read over the contract. It looks like any other contract he has had to sign for work, with the amendments of a traditional mating ritual. Ordinarily, when he surrogates, the egg belongs to the other parent, and it dawns on Yoongi that this child will be his DNA, not Wheein's.

The thought of it makes his hands tremble, and he gnaws on the inside of his mouth. How will he feel, knowing years from now that the baby Namjoon and Wheein raise as their own is his? Will he be given rights to be in that child's life? Will he even want that?

Yoongi stares at the page until the words blur and jumble, turning into black smudges against white – incoherent and impossible to parse. He feels anxious and suddenly so terribly alone, and he begins to worry that maybe he cannot do this. Maybe he needs to back out. Maybe he should just go home.

The sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden door pulls Yoongi from the fog, and he sits alert and looks in the direction of the sound.

"Yes?" he calls, heart pounding at the thought that it could be Namjoon on the other side.

"Tea is ready," Jeongguk responds softly. "I didn't feel like shouting."

With a hum, Yoongi tosses the contract aside and gets off the bed. As he steps closer to the door, he begins to feel a bit shy about how much the room must reek of him. In the kitchen, Jeongguk seemed dazed by his mere presence; what might it smell like contained in such a small space, even with the window cracked open?

To his surprise, Jeongguk's expression seems rather schooled as he opens the door and greets him. He reaches for the tray of tea and fruit, but Jeongguk shakes his head and nods his chin as if to motion for Yoongi to get out of his way.

"Fine," Yoongi mutters, stepping aside and allowing him to enter. The aroma of the tea is strong and soothing.

Jeongguk makes his way to the bed and sets the tray down. His eyes seem to linger on the contract, and then he straightens himself out and turns back to Yoongi. With a concerned pinch to his brow, he opens his mouth, but then he seems to think better about what he might say, and he closes it, floundering.

"Is something the matter?" Yoongi drawls, unable to hide his impatience. He just wants to return to bed and enjoy his tea and fruit, and Jeongguk is standing in the way.

"No," Jeongguk responds after a moment, shrugging as he leaves the room.

"Weirdo," Yoongi mutters under his breath once the door is closed tight. He feels hormonal and irritated, and he is not in the mood for a cryptic beta sniffing around in his personal space.

Yoongi would throw himself onto the mattress in a disgruntled huff if it weren't for the tray of hot tea sitting atop. Instead, he slowly gets onto his knees and shuffles over, plopping onto his butt once he is close enough, causing the porcelain to rattle on its wooden surface.

The tea is perfect, lightly sweetened with honey and soothing on the throat. Yoongi allows himself to be grateful for Jeongguk despite how annoying he finds his presence today. He wonders if Jeongguk likes being employed by the couple because he enjoys doting on others. He even wonders if Jeongguk will dote on him throughout the pregnancy. Or if that is something Namjoon will do?

Namjoon. Yoongi grimaces at the thought of him. Last night, in the woods, pressed against the tree and caged in by Namjoon's arms, Yoongi felt truly alive. Something primal sparked inside him after being chased and captured by the alpha. Just thinking about it has slick threatening to stain his pants.

But then he remembers the look on Namjoon's face when he said it was an accident, and the arousal turns acidic, giving Yoongi a stomach ache. With a frown, he enjoys his fruit – sliced pear and watermelon – and considers once more the thought of backing out of this situation.

Does he really want to be tied to Namjoon for the rest of his life? Is it worth the paycheck? Yoongi is happy to let his body be used to carry a baby to term, but his baby? His flesh and blood, sharing physical features and primal, innate instincts with Kim Namjoon? Can he really go through with it?

This time, when knuckles rap gently at the door, Yoongi huffs out a sigh and shouts, "What?" He is not in the mood to be bothered; can't he wallow in his moodiness alone?

"Yoongi-ssi?" Namjoon calls from the other side of the door.

Namjoon is possibly the last person on this planet Yoongi wants stepping foot into this room, especially with his arousal cloying the air. Even if Namjoon does not desire him, the alpha in him will likely become aroused, and he would rather save all of that for when they actually have to mate.

A shudder runs down Yoongi's spine, and he calls back, "Don't come in here!"

"I just wanted to make sure you got the contract," Namjoon responds, and Yoongi nods to nobody but himself as he mutters, "I got it."

"Okay, good," Namjoon says, and that is it. Silence from the other side of the door, just as Yoongi likes it.

He reminds himself that Namjoon stood up for him all those years ago, and that he should stop second-guessing whether he wants to help him or not. He should help Namjoon; he likes to help others. So he picks up his phone and thumbs around for his conversation with the alpha.

Yoongi Contract looks good. I have a few things I would like to discuss, but it can wait until after my heat ends.

Before Yoongi has a chance to set his phone down, it rings. Namjoon's name flashes on the screen, filling Yoongi with a wave of anxiety. Of course, it is fair that Namjoon would want to iron out any details, but now?

Yoongi answers the phone with a hum.

"We can talk about it now if you'd like to," Namjoon says, tone low and concerned. Hearing Namjoon's voice spoken so directly in his ear gives him goosebumps; he sounds good.

"Uh—" Yoongi clears his throat and runs a hand through his long, messy hair. "Alright. Well, I guess I was wondering about after the baby is born, since, you know…it's going to share my DNA too, if, uh…"

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. Suddenly, he feels embarrassed to care this much, especially being unable to see and gauge Namjoon's reaction.

"Never mind," he mutters when the silence becomes overwhelming. "Forget it."

"Yoongi, listen," Namjoon says, voice stripped of any hint of concern; stern. "I know the process will likely be really stressful, and very personal to you, but I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to come around once we've finished. At least not until the baby is older. The media might turn it into a mess, and we need to think about our reputations."

"We what?" Yoongi responds sharply, unable to hold in the surge of anger that burns behind his ribcage. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Namjoon has the audacity to sigh, and Yoongi spirals.

"You know what?" Yoongi says through a sardonic chuckle, shaking his head, "Fuck you, and fuck this contract. I'm packing my shit and going home."

"Yoongi," Namjoon groans impatiently, "why don't we discuss this once your heat is over?"

"Once my heat is over?" Yoongi practically shouts, voice steeped in sarcasm. "Why, because I'm hormonal? Surely my judgment is being clouded because my omega instincts are making me overreact."

Namjoon hums and responds, "Pretty much."

"Oh, I fucking hate you," Yoongi says, getting up from the bed and pacing around, grabbing his discarded clothing from the floor and walking toward his suitcase to shove the items in unceremoniously. "And stop addressing me without honorifics! I am older than you!"

The tone of Namjoon's voice as he says, "I'm the alpha of this house," is almost playful, and Yoongi finds it infuriating.

"Can't even get your wife pregnant," Yoongi mutters under his breath. "Some fucking alpha you are."

As soon as the words leave his lips, Yoongi braces himself to be yelled at. He really has a lot of nerve saying shit like that to the man whose house he has been staying in. It takes Yoongi by surprise, however, when the door to the bedroom flies open, and Namjoon comes barreling in.

"Say that to my face, omega," Namjoon challenges, standing tall while Yoongi still holds his phone to his ear, crouched over his suitcase, and too dazed to move.

The bitter sting of cinnamon permeates the air, and Yoongi stumbles back, feeling dizzy.

"Not so tough are you now, little wolf?" Namjoon snarls, stepping forward and crowding Yoongi's space.

Yoongi wonders if Jeongguk or Wheein are around and can hear them. He wonders if they would intervene if things got physical between them.

He does not want to fight Namjoon, however. He wants to fuck.

Seeing him worked up with his jaw set and nostrils flaring, muscles strained behind his white button-up does something to Yoongi, and he is unable to stop himself from leaking a little at the sight of him. This must catch Namjoon's attention because he sniffs the air before his eyes widen, confusion laced with anger.

"If you want to leave, then get the fuck out," Namjoon says, blinking heavily and appearing less confident than just a moment ago. "Otherwise, watch what you say to me."

"Alright," Yoongi mutters, eyes traveling over Namjoon, past the hint of skin that peeks past his collar – two buttons left undone – to the shape of his waist and hips, no detail hidden behind the white fabric. "S-sorry."

"Are you?" Namjoon asks, making Yoongi's eyes snap back to his face.

"Yeah," he mutters, and he means it. All the fight has drained out of him, and the bedroom stinks of negativity and arousal.

"If you stay, we can discuss all of this in better detail," Namjoon says, taking a step backward. Sweat shimmers on his throat, and once more, Yoongi cannot stop himself from imagining what it must taste like.

"Later," Namjoon adds, eyes glancing around the room, dazed.

And then he walks out, closing the door behind him. Yoongi's phone remains clutched in his hand, and he glances down to notice that the call was never hung up. Seconds tick by uselessly on his screen until finally, the line goes dead.

"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, tossing his phone to the bed as he lets out a deep exhale. "Holy fuck. That was hot."

No longer is Yoongi considering packing and leaving; he is desperate for Namjoon to mate him.

Tonight, it is Wheein who brings Yoongi dinner. She looks tense as she holds the tray of kimchi soup, rice, and tea, and thankfully, she allows Yoongi to take it from her in the doorway. Yoongi hopes she will excuse herself immediately.

"What did you say to piss off Namjoon earlier?" she asks, voice full of mirth.

Yoongi stops mid-turn and looks over his shoulder to find her standing with her arms crossed over her chest. Heat rises to his face, and he spins away to continue carrying the tray over to the bed.

"Oh, nothing, really…" Yoongi mutters, unsure what he could possibly tell her about what happened. He is almost certain Namjoon did not confide in her, if the lack of conversation he has witnessed is anything to go by. "I misunderstood a line in the contract, and overreacted. My hormones have been super off balance."

Yoongi turns and feigns concern as he adds, "Why? Did he—did he say anything?"

Wheein squints and appears to study Yoongi, then she shrugs and responds, "No. Just heard him storm in here, that's all."

"Ah," Yoongi mutters, feeling uncomfortable. "Well, thank you for the food. I appreciate it."

"The thing is," Wheein continues, straightening her posture and taking a step into the room, "he seems to be coming down with a fever. I'm worried that something may have stressed him out so much that he has become sick."

Yoongi swallows a lump, feeling a prickle of sweat on his forehead. Just what the hell is Wheein trying to accuse him of?

"I don't think that's how stress or sickness works," Yoongi mutters, somewhat defensively.

With a devilish grin, Wheein says, "True. Maybe he got a whiff of your horny omega slick and now he's going into a rut."

Yoongi's heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he racks his brain…is that how ruts work? He is not entirely sure; alpha ruts are not exactly part of the in vitro birthing process.

"I'm…not—" Yoongi begins, wanting to argue that he has not been excreting slick willy-nilly for all the house to smell. Sure, he is sweating a lot, and producing a bouquet of scents, but his slick has been more or less kept under control.

But then he remembers the jog in the woods. Not only that, but Namjoon chased him through the trees and pinned him in order to get a better sniff of him. And he did leak a little earlier today when Namjoon stormed in and loomed over him like a threat. Could that have caused a rut?

Yoongi begins to panic, feeling his pulse rage. He knits his brow and shakes his head, attempting to think of something to say, but Wheein just giggles and walks out, closing the door and leaving a spattering of patchouli behind her.

Briefly, Yoongi wonders if she is drunk; she does seem to enjoy her white wine. Or is she being malicious? Does having another omega in the house make her feel insecure?

There is a part of Yoongi that wants to reach out to Namjoon and ask him what is wrong – to make sure that it is not, in fact, a rut that he is going through. But Namjoon has been so hot and cold toward Yoongi since his arrival, and more than anything, he wants to get the procreation done and over with so that he can carry their child to term and never see them again.

However, if he is going to be in this house for a year, give or take, then he needs an ally. So he climbs onto the bed, finds his phone, and makes an attempt at opening a dialogue.

Yoongi I have a feeling Wheein hates me.

He sets his phone down and takes a spoonful of soup, raising it to his lips before stopping and giving it a whiff. Certainly, if she were going to poison him, she would do so with something undetectable, Yoongi thinks, but he takes precautions anyway. After all, she is not above having things added to his food that should not be in there.

Yoongi has a spoonful of the soup, then a bite of rice, and a spoonful of soup again. He closes his eyes, savoring the broth with a tiny smile, deciding it is probably not dosed with poison. Beside him, his cell phone buzzes.

Namjoon To be fair, she hates everything.

This makes Yoongi snicker and roll his eyes.

Yoongi How reassuring.

Namjoon Why? Has she said something to you?

Yoongi feels a little surprised by Namjoon's concern. Of course, this could be a robotic response, seeing as Yoongi is a guest in his home. Or a response born out of boredom, if Namjoon really is sick. Still, Yoongi takes what he can get.

Yoongi She asked me what I said to anger you. I lied a little, because I wasn't sure if you told her, and I was already embarrassed enough that I didn't want to run the risk of offending her, as well.

Namjoon She's good at smelling lies. But it's probably best that you didn't tell her.

Yoongi I figured.

Yoongi continues to eat, staring at his phone, which rests on his knee, waiting for Namjoon to respond. It only takes a few minutes for him to become antsy.

Yoongi She mentioned you've been feeling sick.

Namjoon A fever, I think. Nothing concerning.

Yoongi Wheein said it might be a rut. She even teased me, saying it was probably my fault.

Namjoon She said that?

Yoongi I’m sure she was joking, but it did make me a bit uncomfortable.

Yoongi wants to ask directly. He wants to interrogate Namjoon about what happened in the woods last night and ask him what he thinks they should do. If Namjoon is reacting to his scent in a primal way, is it safe for them to be in the same house?

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response to come in, feeling disappointment well inside his guts with each moment that passes without one. He even considers calling Namjoon just to clear things up.

But instead, he decides he would rather eat his dinner. Already, the food and tea have begun to turn cold, so he slurps everything up, intent on finishing rather than savoring.

Since Namjoon is likely confined to one of the rooms, Yoongi decides to take his tray back to the kitchen. Perhaps he can engage in more friendly conversation with Wheein, or find out what Jeongguk is up to.

Yoongi slides off the bed and grabs the tray, balancing it on one palm spread across the underside as he walks to the door and opens it. He peeks out briefly, and upon finding only Jeongguk in the kitchen, he exits the room and pads over.

As he approaches, Jeongguk looks up, and with widened eyes, he trots over, reaching out for the tray before getting close enough to take it.

“I got it,” Yoongi grumbles, but Jeongguk takes it anyway, spinning on the balls of his feet to place it onto the counter.

“Yoongi-ssi,” Jeongguk says as he turns his attention back to Yoongi. “I was just going to come talk to you.”

“Oh?”

Jeongguk hums. “Being that you are in a heat cycle and Namjoon is feeling unwell, we would like to move you.”

"Like, what, to another room?" Yoongi scoffs; what difference would it make if he were across the same hallway, one door over.

"It's…more like a guesthouse," Jeongguk responds with a look of concern, possibly because he can see how Yoongi is responding to the request.

"A guesthouse," Yoongi mutters under his breath.

So, essentially, they would like to further isolate Yoongi and keep him away from Namjoon. And he is supposed to carry a child under those conditions…he wishes he could say he is surprised, but isolating the surrogate does seem to be the way couples handle the process, and a guesthouse had been mentioned before.

"Fine," Yoongi grumbles, feeling exhausted.

Perhaps it is for the best that he is away from this weirdo family and keeps to himself. The pay that will come at the end of this whole ordeal will be enough that he can take a vacation to clear his mind, and he decides to begin looking forward to that.

Yoongi leads the way back to the bedroom and pushes the door open, leaving it hanging rather than bothering to close it behind him. Let his stench fill the hallway, for all he cares; if Namjoon really is rutting, then he hopes the man feels miserable.

First, he picks up his phone – checking for messages and rolling his eyes when he finds none – and then he shoves his strewn clothing back into his suitcase and zips it shut. Jeongguk arrives and waits in the doorway, seemingly surprised to find Yoongi is already set to leave.

"You never bothered to unpack," Jeongguk mutters, a statement rather than a question.

Rather than respond, Yoongi shoves past and walks down the hallway, toward the bathroom, to retrieve his toothbrush. For a brief moment, he considers taking the amenities that have been provided, but he decides to wait and find out what the guesthouse has to offer. Yoongi pads back and finds that Jeongguk already has his suitcase handle extended and in his grasp, so he approaches and waits for the beta to lead the way.

"It's out back," Jeongguk mutters as he wheels the case toward the back door, and Yoongi trods ahead and slides his feet into the sneakers that were left the night before, not bothering to untie them or straighten out the backs that bend beneath his heels. He stands off to the side as Jeongguk slides into some sandals and opens the back door, leading the way to the left, where the wooden deck extends past the pool, along the side of the house.

Past the pool, between the hanok and the wooded area, is a small wooden bungalow – a tiny version of the hanok, with matching ornate black roof tiles. It runs the width of the pool, although how deep the structure is, Yoongi cannot tell. Jeongguk leads down the wooden path until he reaches the door, then he pulls out a key and unlocks it.

As soon as Yoongi steps close to the front door, he is hit with the scent of warm musk, tangerine, and cinnamon, stronger than it had been in the other bedroom. Petulance rises, and he cannot decide whether he is more annoyed at having to smell the alpha because he wants him close, or if he simply wants nothing to do with his presence at all.

This building is far more quaint, with a large room that has a bed set up in the far corner, raised from the floor and covered in furs – what one would expect from a wolf home centuries ago – with a dresser and mirror nearby. There is a low square table in the center of the room, around which sits four yellow-brown cushions. To the right is a window, and to the left is a door, through which Yoongi expects to find a bathroom.

There is no kitchen, nor hint of space in which to prepare meals, making Yoongi uncomfortable. Sure, he had been accepting Jeongguk's insistence of preparing and delivering his meals, but out here, away from the house, he practically feels like a prisoner. The space is bare bones, and appears hardly used – though immaculate; Yoongi does not see a speck of dust. He wonders if Jeongguk recently cleaned in here.

"What do I do about food?" Yoongi asks, already knowing what the answer will be.

"I already prepare all three meals for Namjoon and Wheein," Jeongguk responds simply. "And I was already bringing your meals, before we moved you here. It's no trouble for me to make the extra trip with a tray."

Yoongi sighs and digs the palms of his hands against his eyes, feeling tired, but more in an emotional way than a physical one.

"I guess I was hoping that on days I felt better, I could have a little more independence."

Jeongguk nods, then shrugs and says, "I understand it must be strange to live with a family who has hired help, but I assure you that nobody cooks or cleans in that kitchen but me."

"And if you're sick?" Yoongi challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"I rarely become sick," Jeongguk responds.

Yoongi simply hums. Must be nice, he thinks, to be a beta with no heat or rut cycle to care about. Still, the thought of having to rely on someone else for all of his meals feels…well, annoying. But he swallows down the rest of his remarks and accepts things as they are. Jeongguk is, after all, a great cook.

"Take down my number so it will be easier for you to let me know when you are hungry," Jeongguk suggests, and Yoongi fishes his phone from his pocket, unlocks the screen, and thumbs through to open an empty contact, then hands it over.

"And if I want snacks?"

Jeongguk takes the phone, glancing at Yoongi for just a brief moment to smirk, before looking down and muttering, "I have already purchased the items on your list, and if you would like, I can bring all the snacks here. If there is anything else you crave, just let me know and I will add it to the shopping list."

"Alright," Yoongi concedes with a sigh as Jeongguk hands his phone back. Yoongi snatches it and slides it back into his pocket, then continues to glance around the room.

"I will leave you to it," Jeongguk says, turning on his heels before adding, "and if you would like to go for a swim, please feel free. I bought a set of shorts in case you didn't pack any. It's in the dresser, which you are welcome to store your things in."

Yoongi nods and hums in response, then stands stiff with his arms hanging at his sides, unsure what to do with himself as Jeongguk leaves. A swim does sound nice, but he hesitates, letting his gaze drift around the room. He supposes it couldn't hurt to take a dip and get a little sunshine. There really is not much else to do, and although Yoongi has a laptop packed in his suitcase and can always find something to stream, he really is not in the mood to watch anything.

"Everything feels like a concession," he mutters under his breath as he kicks away his bent sneakers and pads over to the dresser. "For once, I just want to feel relaxed."

And if that is not reason enough to take a swim, he really does not know what is.

Although the furniture seems somewhat contemporary, the dresser has a vintage look, designed like older pieces of furniture with ornate iron fastenings, but rounded edges. Yoongi opens the top drawer and finds a folded pile of black cloth, which he lifts and discovers is the shorts Jeongguk had mentioned.

Although they are longer, they are also rather tight, and Yoongi snickers to himself, wondering if they provide more coverage than boxer briefs – which he has aplenty, and could have worn. He strips down, out of his light blue jeans and black briefs, and shimmies one leg at a time into the shorts, pulling them high and adjusting the crotch.

"Good enough," he mutters as he crosses the room and enters through the only other door, feeling around for a light switch before finding one and flipping it up. The bathroom is spacious, with a shower stall – containing the toiletries he lamented leaving behind in the old bathroom – and a large sink with an overhead mirror. Above the toilet is a shelf holding rows of towels, and he grabs one, switches off the light, and shuffles out.

Yoongi makes his way to the door and exits the bungalow, leaving it unlocked since Jeongguk did not provide him with a key, and he walks over to the pool. The end closest to his new home appears to be the deep end – which Yoongi thinks is quite suitable for the situation he has found himself in – and he decides he is not eager to jump in all at once, so he walks around to the far end, where a small set of steps sits nestled in the corner closest to the back porch of the hanok.

A light breeze gusts by, covering Yoongi in goosebumps, and he wonders if perhaps it is getting too cold to take a swim. Already, the day is beginning to wane, the sky turning a golden hue. Yoongi shuffles over to the steps and dips his toe into the water, snickering to himself because of course their pool is heated. Why wouldn't the mayor, who lives in a beautiful home with his beautiful wife out on this beautiful stretch of land, not have a heated fucking inground pool?

The water feels perfect, and Yoongi peels off the plain white tee he had been wearing and flings it and his towel over to a wicker chair with white padding that sits a few feet away. Briefly, Yoongi wonders if it is likely that anyone might join him, but considering Namjoon is unwell and the other two live in the kitchen, glued to their glasses of wine, he finds it unlikely.

Good, he thinks. All the better.

Yoongi starts slow, walking one step at a time while the water licks his ankles – cool on the very surface but warm just below. Then, with a deep breath out, and a deep breath in, he falls forward, skimming the surface as he lowers little by little until he is somewhat wading, somewhat walking, sinking down into a half-seated position hovering just above the floor.

Below the surface of the water, everything is calm and peaceful – a gentle roar of nothingness, heavy and weightless and so, perfectly alone. Above, the water sways, dips, and peaks, casting light and shadow in ever-changing patterns, glimmering and fading, ebbing and flowing. He wishes he could sit down here much longer than his body allows, and he lets out air gradually, expanding his diaphragm slowly, slowly, slowly, until his lungs begin to burn with the need for oxygen.

Yoongi lets the rest of his air out in a huff as he stands in shallow enough water that it rests at his hips, making his torso cool instantly in the evening air. A chill rocks through him, quaking in a shiver that feels so visceral – makes him feel so alive. And, with a smile, he spins and squats, walking with the water to his shoulders until, little by little, he can stand tall again with only his neck and head sticking out.

As the sun gradually works its way closer to the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in pink and gold, Yoongi swims and swims, spinning onto his back for a few laps before turning onto his front, dolphin-diving below and floating listlessly back to the top. He lays on his back and lets the water rock him to and fro, drifting with no direction – with no care in the world. He closes his eyes, he listens to birds and insects, and he simply exists.

The sound of the back door to the hanok closing stirs Yoongi, and he opens his eyes, body dipping into the water as his muscles respond to the feeling of surprise. Namjoon shuffles down the deck, along the path, and disappears into the trees, running much faster than he had the other night.

Strange, Yoongi thinks, that he is out for a run when he is unwell. Perhaps he is feeling better. Or, perhaps he is the foolish type who likes to push himself too far when all he needs is rest.

Or…perhaps he really is in a rut.

His fever – and whatever else he experiences during that time – could come and go the way Yoongi's does, building and fading gradually until it hits hard all at once, debilitating and overwhelming, or whatever alphas experience.

Yoongi continues to float, but the weightlessness feels stifled; his limbs are just a little too heavy. The euphoria has been tamped down, and he begins to slowly spin and walk around somewhat mindlessly, unsure what to do with himself. The thought of Namjoon returning and regarding him feels daunting…but, somehow, the thought of Namjoon returning and pretending he does not exist feels worse.

With small, bouncy steps, Yoongi returns to the steps in the corner of the pool, standing tall as the water pours down his torso and turns cold. Goosebumps cover his skin, and he breathes deep, relaxing breaths as he exits and pads over to the chair for the fluffy white towel that lays in a pile, tangled with his shirt.

Yoongi picks up the towel and starts with his shoulders, rubbing away water while standing with his head leaned just forward enough that the water drips onto the tan gunite floor. He rubs the towel over his arms and down his legs, not worrying too much since his shorts are sopping wet; he really just wants to get his shirt back on so he can dry his hair a little and then wrap the towel around his hips.

As he flings the towel aside and reaches for his tee, the sounds of feet tromping through the woods can be heard behind him. He holds the garment in his hand and rotates, curiously searching for the source of the sound. And when Namjoon breaks through the trees – off path – Yoongi sucks in a breath and holds it for safekeeping.

Namjoon shines in the faint rays of the quickly setting sun, hair stuck to his forehead in stalactites of sweat. His black athletic tank and shorts cling to his skin, outlining firm muscle and soft curves; he looks like a modern depiction of a god, chiseled in stone, preserved in all his glory, too good to be true.

As the musky-sweet stench of chamomile wafts from Yoongi, he turns his head away quickly and begins to shove his arms into his shirt, punching material before finding the wrong holes and then the right ones. He swallows a lump and stares ahead at the wooden deck of the hanok, waiting anxiously for Namjoon to pass and go back inside. But instead, the footsteps advance, slowing in step and at war with the accelerated pace at which Yoongi's heart pounds.

"Hey," Namjoon mutters, making Yoongi gasp, and he turns, feeling his face warm as Namjoon approaches. "Are you done already?"

Yoongi's entire nervous system screeches to a halt as he does his best not to notice the dips and curves of pectorals and abdominals, and so, so many muscles his foggy brain fails to cling to the names of. Somewhat frantically, his tongue pushes and pulls inside his mouth, forming consonants and vowels that never find sound, until finally, he mutters, "Huh?"

To his surprise, Namjoon chuckles – a soft thing with barely any sound following an abrupt gust of air, accompanied by gentle dimples creasing his cheeks. It is absolutely devastating, and Yoongi heavy-blinks and pleads silently with himself to get his shit together and think clearly.

"Are you done swimming?" Namjoon clarifies. "I was going to jump in."

All at once, Yoongi spirals. On the one hand, it would be an actual dream come true to swim with Namjoon – to be weightless and wet, and engulfed in his scent. But on the other hand – the practical hand that reminds him that Namjoon is unattainable and not his – determines that all of that is an absolute fucking nightmare.

What if the sight of Namjoon's bare chest causes Yoongi to produce slick, filling the atmosphere with his arousal? No, he thinks. Swimming with Namjoon is off the table.

And even as he deliberates, searching the darkening sky for answers, warm musk laced with sweet, tangy tangerine tickles at his senses and sends him reeling. He needs to get away, fast.

"Y-yeah," Yoongi mutters. "I feel kinda tired. I might shower and turn in."

Namjoon's brows knit ever so slightly, and Yoongi does not let himself dwell on it – pushes out the thought that Namjoon might be disappointed, of all things. As he takes a step back and lifts his hand to give a weak wave, he mutters, "Nice pool, though. Thanks for letting me swim."

A weird thing to say, Yoongi considers, since Namjoon did not really let him do anything; he is a guest in this house and was given swim shorts. But the words are already out there and it feels weird to take them back.

"Use it all you'd like," Namjoon responds politely, reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting.

And with that, Yoongi turns quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet to scamper away, back to the bungalow. He imagines he can feel Namjoon's gaze on him as he retreats, swallowing a lump of determination and disappointment as he reaches for the knob. He will not turn back and see for himself; he cannot do that.

Yoongi steps inside quickly and leans his back against the closing door, allowing his body and gravity to do the work as he sinks into the cold surface and closes his eyes. He needs to stop swooning over Namjoon; these feelings – whether a product of his heat, or genuine, or some dreadful place in between – are no good. They can only cause him hurt, in the long run. He needs to steel his heart and stop pining over the alpha who can never be his.

Days pass in the bungalow with Jeongguk bringing him breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and keeping him stocked with snacks. The food changes, sometimes braised pork belly, sometimes pizza. Each meal comes with tea and water, and a packet of bupropion in case Yoongi feels any swelling or pain. He lets the medicine pile up on the small wooden table.

Yoongi's heat is beginning to hit hard, keeping him bedridden during the day. He peels himself out of the sheets when the sun begins to set to swim by himself, desperate to calm his nerves. Then he showers and returns to the bed. When Jeongguk stops by with meals, he switches out the sheets and towels, keeping Yoongi stocked with anything he may need.

But what he really needs, deep down, is the scent and comfort of an alpha. He needs to nestle and cuddle; needs to smell and lick and feel. Already traces of Namjoon are dwindling, and he finds himself desperately rubbing his face against the thick fur blanket, in search of more.

In the past, Yoongi has been able to tamp down these urges, never having had a tangible person on his mind while his hormones rage. But this time, he aches and yearns for the man whose scent is faint on the fur – only present enough to provide an illusion of comfort, driving him mad when his thighs clench together, and he leaks with wanton need.

Yoongi has no idea how late it is when a light knocking on the door that is very clearly not Jeongguk stirs him from a restless sleep. Outside, the sky is dark, and he cannot fathom who may need him at this hour.

"Hang on," Yoongi groans as he sits up and begins to push at the sheet, tangled in fabric and sweat, drowsy and disoriented. "Just a moment."

Yoongi stumbles when he gets to his feet, breathing shallowly and attempting to press forward despite how badly his body wants to sink down, down, down to the floorboards, and seep into the earth. He reaches for the knob and turns, finding his hand is too sweaty and rubbing his palm against his briefs in order to try again.

It occurs to Yoongi in a brief, passing thought that he is completely undressed, answering the door in his underwear, but he has neither the heart nor mind to care. When he finally gets a grip on the knob to twist and pull, he lets his eyes rake up the body of his guest, to his face, taking several moments to process the sight before him.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon asks softly, covered head to toe in soft black cotton – a hoodie pulled over his head, and matching joggers.

Yoongi hums in response, not entirely certain that Namjoon really is standing before him; could he be lucid dreaming? Does it always feel so real?

"Can I—I wanted to talk to you. Is now a bad time?"

"I'm…not fully awake," Yoongi mutters. Then he chuckles, shoulders and stomach bouncing as he asks, "Am I awake? Are you a dream? This is a weird dream. Ugh, this heat is making me crazy."

"I'm—" Namjoon begins, hesitates, and shifts on his feet, eyes searching past Yoongi's head.

Yoongi thinks his pupils are blown wide, that his nostrils are flared, but of course they would be; dream Namjoon would desire him.

"Maybe I should come back another time."

With a shrug, Yoongi backs into the room, deciding that he may as well let Namjoon in; he has no idea when, in the foreseeable future, he might feel better. He pads over to a cushion and allows his body to bend and crash down into it, catching himself with his palms against the floor before he can topple completely. Namjoon enters the space and softly closes the door behind him, then he takes a much more graceful seat on the cushion to Yoongi's right.

"I was thinking…" Namjoon says, trailing off as he glances around the room, seemingly unable to hold his gaze on Yoongi. "I don't know if you know this, but I began my rut."

Yoongi laughs softly to himself, though what he finds funny, he is not certain. "Sucks to be you," he mutters with a sigh, feeling sorry for anyone who may be feeling as awful as he feels in this moment.

"I wasn't expecting it to happen, but I think it came about from…in the woods…when we were running. Your smell, and…my instincts…I—I don't know. I'm sorry, this must be awkward."

Gradually, as if ice water were trickling down from above, onto his head and pulling him from the fog of his heat, Yoongi begins to become acutely aware of the fact that this conversation is real – that he is definitely not dreaming. He watches Namjoon with wide, eager eyes, feeling a dizzying euphoria blanket him as their musks and scents mingle in the air.

"Ok," is all he can bring himself to say in response.

Namjoon chuckles, light and soft, just like the day at the pool, sending Yoongi's heart haywire. And Namjoon has to know; the way his scent hangs in the air, clinging to every corner and surface, it is unmistakable how Yoongi feels.

"I wonder if perhaps this would be a good time to…you know…" Namjoon says, cheeks darkening with blush.

"Procreate," Yoongi blurts with a heavy scoff.

Namjoon's cheeks dimple just enough to devastate as he says, "Yeah. Procreate."

"I am the most fertile," Yoongi mutters, letting his gaze drift to Namjoon's sweater, to a spot that blurs as he lets his vision drift, then sharpens as he blinks.

"And I'm the most virile," Namjoon adds.

"This is probably an opportune time," Yoongi mutters.

Silence hangs, but, for once, it is not uncomfortable. Namjoon seems to be intentionally delivering a calming scent, and Yoongi takes a deep, fortifying breath.

"Tonight is likely too soon," Namjoon responds, voice small.

Yoongi gasps, eyes flying to search Namjoon's face for any hint that he is joking, finding him looking shy.

"Yeah, maybe." Yoongi says, weighing the possibilities. "It would…gods, it would be a huge relief for me, but…maybe it's too soon."

"I'm sorry you're in here alone, dealing with this," Namjoon says, bashful. "I was too worried about, well…having you across the hall. The smell…"

"I get it," Yoongi responds. And he really does; being away from Namjoon has been for the best, he thinks. Especially with his treacherous heart desiring more than just the alpha comfort he could provide. Yoongi finds himself curious to know Namjoon too, as a person. Horrifying; it must be stopped.

"Tomorrow?" Yoongi suggests, half-joking, and Namjoon regards him with wide eyes, visibly swallows, and then nods in quick, shallow movements.

"Alright," Namjoon says, wetting his lips and standing quickly. "See you tomorrow, Yoongi."

And then, without another word or glance back, Namjoon makes for the door and exits, leaving Yoongi to spiral and spiral.

Jeongguk arrives bright and early with a bowl of fruit, water, and tea. He mutters something about Yoongi refraining from showering, no matter how sweaty he may be, and he hands over a packet of vitamins, waiting to watch Yoongi take them.

He also brings incense sticks and candles that he lights, ornate figures and shimmering crystals that he sets here and there, wreaths of dried plants that he tacks around, and soft, satin black sheets. It smells faintly like a smoky forest, but also a valley of flowers.

"Namjoon will return within the hour," Jeongguk says once he is done, holding the old bedding in his arms. "It will just be the two of you; the ritual is modern enough that there is no need for an audience. Is there anything else you need?"

Within the hour, in broad daylight. Yoongi swallows thickly. "N-no, thank you Jeongguk."

"Best of luck," Jeongguk says with a nod, "I pray for your fertility, and to your healthy body, mind, and spirit."

"Oh—okay, thanks," Yoongi mutters, stunned and unsure what to say.

With a bow of his head, Jeongguk departs, leaving Yoongi to stare at his fruit bowl.

Namjoon's knocking is recognizable now; two short taps and three quick ones. Yoongi is sitting at the table finishing his fruit and tea, and he calls, "Come in," with a quaking voice.

Seconds pass before the door opens, and Yoongi wonders if Namjoon is just as nervous as he is. He walks in wearing a black satin robe, and he kicks off sandals as he closes the door, then approaches with soft steps. He kneels beside Yoongi, and glances around the room for a brief moment before finally speaking.

"Are you ready, little omega?"

The nickname makes Yoongi's head spin, and he heavy-blinks and nods, letting his gaze drift and return.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

With a lift of one eyebrow, Namjoon says, "You don't smell ready," and Yoongi absolutely spirals. He attempts to find the words to say, failing around each syllable before Namjoon continues, saying, "I can change that, don't worry," in a voice that is deep and inviting and far too enticing for his own good.

Yoongi pushes away from the small table and stands, wearing only black briefs and a black tee. The material clings to his skin with sweat, but he has followed directions and has not showered. He makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge, and Namjoon turns, gets onto his hands and knees, and crawls.

No, not crawls – Namjoon stalks. His gaze is pointed, lips pulled into a sneer, and he slowly makes his way to Yoongi as the bone and muscle in his shoulders rise and sink hypnotically.

The dark material of the satin robe falls open, showing hints of chest, and Yoongi allows himself to look. When Namjoon gets close, he nuzzles his cheek against Yoongi's knee, and sparks fly inside him, building the aching need, causing every muscle between his legs to twitch and flutter as he produces slick.

"That's more like it," Namjoon groans, making a show of sniffing the air.

"Gods, you're infuriating," Yoongi mutters as his eyelids flicker.

"Lay down," Namjoon instructs as he sits up and begins to disrobe.

Yoongi nods and backs up, digging his heels as he pushes the blankets away and finds the center of the bed, soft and cool and covered with satin. Namjoon stands, drops the robe to the floor, and Yoongi gasps as he takes in the sight of the alpha nude with his cock hanging heavy and half-hard between his legs.

"Like what you see?" Namjoon teases, and Yoongi laughs, forcing his gaze to reach the ceiling.

"You wish," he responds, breathy and unconvincing.

The mattress dips, and Yoongi's heart becomes frantic. He has to keep reminding himself that this is really happening – that Kim Namjoon is going to breed him. When he allows himself to look at Namjoon, he finds the man towering beside him on his knees, laughing.

"What?" Yoongi asks, petulant.

"So stiff," Namjoon teases, and Yoongi realizes that he is lying in a straight line with his arms flat to his sides, and yeah, sure, he probably looks really funny. "Loosen up, omega."

"How do you expect me to do that?" Yoongi asks somewhat indignantly, tilting his head up, off the pillow, as if that will give him a better view of the man.

Without another word, Namjoon reaches down, takes Yoongi's plain black tee in both hands, and – with a growl that roars from deep in his chest – he rips it wide open, causing Yoongi to gasp and scramble as the alpha holds what is left of the material, trapping him somewhat suspended with his heels digging desperately against the mattress.

Slick trickles from him, mingling in the air with tangerine and musk – dizzying. Arousal floods and floods to the tips of his fingers and toes, his cock twitches half-hard, and his breaths heave from his lungs. He smolders under Namjoon's heated gaze, and his body begins to sink, pliant and eager. So, so eager.

Namjoon releases Yoongi's tattered shirt and leans close, caging him in with his arms and sniffing just above his shoulder, making Yoongi instinctively tilt his head to give him more access.

"Finally," Namjoon groans, voice hazy and somewhat distant, covering Yoongi in goosebumps. "I finally get to have you."

ahhhh, are we having fun, yet??? gosh, i love them so much. fun fact: this fic was written for a fest that had a 20k word cap for one shots and 40k word cap for two shots, and i ended up running out of fucking space. i went into a trance and wrote this fic like my life depended on it. and i have zero regrets.

thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs and comments are the lifeblood of this hellsite and likes are appreciated too!!! i love you!!!

tags: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13 @giriiboyy @mgthecat @moonleeai @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki @yoongoboongo0🌙 comment or dm to be added to the tag list!

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#namgi #namgi a/b/o #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #alpha namjoon #omega yoongi #bts a/b/o #bts angst #bts smut #fic: one day at a time

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misswoozi · 1 year

Note

Also consider that if Changkyun is up first he'll wake Wheein up by eating her out, possibly even rimming her if theyre into that 🎮

my immediate thought is that Changkyun is usually pretty rough in general, including w/ his tongue, but when he's waking her up like this, he is way softer and way slower and it results in Wheein waking up SO WET and it is one of her favorite things

#thank you!#this was good discourse lmao #xbox anon #wheein smut #changkyun smut #monsta x smut #mamamoo smut #favorite

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sweetestofchaos · 4 days

Text

Blackthorn Ch 16 | M.YG

A Shift in the Tide - Safe within the palace walls once more, the young royals must deal with an unseen turn of events.

a/n: thank you a million times again and again for @sailoryooons for always taking time out of her busy life to beta this and stroll through my endless thoughts with me. Sometimes, I just need a little hand holding to reach the end lol

a/n 2: Character asks and the taglist for Blackthorn are always open! Minors do NOT interact with my work, please and thank you. Also, this is cross posted on ao3, under the same username sweetestofchaos.

taglist: @thickemadame @loisje123

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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“Hoseok, please. I do not have the patience for your word games. What has happened in my absence? Why has mother requested an audience at such an hour?”

Hoseok raised to his feet and stared at his friend, his face pinched as the words left his lips in a rattled croak. “T-The Emperor… he is ill.”

In the Princess’ chambers, Ceyeh sat, submerged in the heated waters scented with lavender, chamomile and patchouli. A heavy steam fogged the air, dampening Hyejin and Wheein as they carefully washed the dirt, grime and blood from the Princess’ body. The water was murky, muddled by the filth that was scrubbed off the Princess. Hyejin took her time as she slowly swiped over the tiny cuts that were no more than faint marks that would fade within a few days. Wheein focused on washing the Princess’ hair, taking care to rub a cleansing soap in small sections.

Little by little, the feathers that adorned the Princess’ body started to fall away, gliding on the air smoothly before they touched the water’s surface and melted into nothing. The Princess’ eyes were closed, her lids motionless as Ceyeh allowed for the night's events to break down in her mind. Princess Keena was just below the surface, begging to see the young Prince, but Ceyeh refused. Her mind was torn, at war with a heart that was not truly hers.

Sharpened nails receded and rounded out to a soft tip and the Princess’ body started to sink deeper into the water. Wheein struggled to keep the Princess afloat, worried that she would tug too harshly on the braids.

“We should move her,” Wheein warned. “Ceyeh is giving up her control.”

Hyejin took notice of the Princess’ changing body and agreed. Together, the maids pulled the Princess to the steps of the heated water and placed her in the corner so that the Princess could not move. The two spirits fought for control and Ceyeh relented once the Princess assured her that she would handle the backlash of the night’s events with grace.

Brown eyes fluttered open and Hyejin gasped, “Princess?!”

Hyejin almost tumbled into the water from how quickly she threw her arms around the Princess’ shoulders. Princess Keena winced, her whole body ached and her throat felt raw. She tried to push at Hyejin’s arms but it felt like she was moving through molasses. Feeling the movement of the Princess, Hyejin jerked away with a deep blush on her face.

“Forgive me, Princess,” Hyejin quickly apologized and the Princess nodded her head slowly as more and more of her senses started to come back.

“Are you okay? Is there any pain? Any discomfort?” Wheein questioned as she noticed the Princess’ silence and glassy eyes. Wheein’s words were muffled, wrapped in cotton and submerged in water.

Princess Keena blinked a few times as she tried to clear her blurred vision. The rushing of blood behind her ears started to wane and her heart returned to a relaxed beat.

“E-Everything hurts.”

Wheein rose to her feet and rushed out the wash room while Hyejin continued to carefully help the Princess get comfortable in the water.

Tears streamed down Byulyi’s face as she laid out a new outfit for the Princess to wear while Aga sat in the sitting room with his arms crossed over his chest tightly. Aga jumped to his feet when Wheein ran over to him, her robes soaked with water and smelling sweetly.

“The P-Princess is awake.”

“She has regained control?”

Wheein nodded her head and Aga sighed in relief before he raised an eyebrow. He knew that Wheein had more to say. “She is in pain-”

“Hyungwon will be here once he is finished with the Prince. Keep her as comfortable as you can for now. Wonho and Jooheon know to let him in with no questions.”

As Aga spoke, the main doors opened and Hyungwon rushed in. His robes were crinkled and his usually neat hair was wild, and tossed this way and that as if he had run his hands through it many times. Aga and Wheein both bowed their heads before Wheein grabbed Hyungwon’s medical basket out of the air and motioned for him to follow her.

“The Princess has just regained control. Speak slowly so that she can read your lips if her response time seems delayed,” Aga explained and Hyungwon nodded his head before he disappeared into the washroom.

Aga’s shoulders slumped and he fell back onto the couch, his head held in his hands as relief flooded his system. The Princess was awake and had full control of herself; he did not know the extent of her injuries but he would know soon enough. Aga inhaled deeply, his chest expanded and held his breath for a moment. As he exhaled, Aga lifted his head and sat up right with his elbows resting on his knees. He would wait for Hyungwon’s words and go from there. He saw no point in lamenting over the unknown. He would get to the bottom of tonight's attack and punish all those who had part.

Upon Hyungwon’s arrival, the Princess was dressed in a white satin robe with yellow and orange watercolor flowers along the lower skirt. Princess Keena sat out of the water, her feet still submerged up to her knees as she slowly kicked her feet back and forth.

Hyungwon bowed deeply upon seeing the Princess and she bowed her head with a tired smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I am pleased to see you awake, your Highness.”

“Thank you for arriving at such haste, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon kneeled beside the Princess and Wheein set the basket of medical supplies down next to him. Hyungwon began his exam under the careful watch of the Princess maids and Princess Keena answered all his questions to the best of her ability. Her memory of the night was fully intact, there were no holes in her story. She knew of the Prince’s injury and spoke of it to which Hyungwon steered the conversation to another topic.

“There seems to be no permanent damage. Your wounds will heal in time and there will be no scarring from the attack.”

The handmaids were pleased by the news and Hyungwon continued. “Your muscles are in pain due to overuse, I was informed that Ceyeh was in control and you were shifted for quite some time.”

“I have shifted before and never felt such pain.”

“You were not pushed to such levels of self prevention. It was life or death, Princess. Ceyeh and Agust protected both you and his Highness just sort of their true selves.”

“And Yoongi? How is my Prince?”

The familiarity and desperation in her words made Hyungwon freeze. It was not Hyungwon’s place to tell the Princess of Prince Yoongi’s state of wellbeing and yet his body moved on its own accord. He grabbed hold of the Princess’ hands and held them gently as he examined her fingers and palms for wounds he knew were not there.

“His Highness was treated by my own hands and will make a speedy recovery in his own time.”

Hyungwon patted the Princess’ hands and gave them a tight squeeze.

“My advice would be to stay by his side in these trying times. Though he is alive…” Hyungwon’s voice trailed off as he thought back to the Prince’s injured eye. Hyungwon was sure that the Prince had lost the vision of his right eye but without a proper exam, it was just speculation.

“Hyungwon?” The Princess’ voice was soft yet firm as she squeezed his hands.

“His Highness will need you to find his peace; guide him well.”

Hyungwon spoke for the last time and bowed deeply before he departed, leaving behind soothing creams to ease the fatigue of the Princess’ muscles and a herbal tea mixture for her mind. He had the forethought to ward off possible night terrors to give the Princess the utmost peace.

Wheein and Hyejin smoothed the soothing balm onto the Princess’ skin and placed a new robe, black with gold and pink tiger lilies along the back, on her before they led her to her chambers. Byulyi’s eyes were red and puffy from crying and when she saw the Princess she had started to cry again. Princess Keena comforted the maid and encouraged her to help her dress to take her mind off what happened.

Byulyi dressed the Princess in an olive green satin sleep dress that covered her shoulders halfway and flowed down into a rounded neckline with beige stitching that spelled out an ancient prayer for sweet dreams and restful sleep. The sleep dress reached all the way down, almost covering her feet and was the same length all around. It made the Princess smile to wear the sleep dress, it was from her homeland and Byulyi knew she would seek that comfort.

Matching green slippers were placed on her feet and the maids dried the Princess’ hair with cemetan stones before they tucked the braids into a neat bun on top of the Princess’ head. A green wrap with beige and taupe dahlias was carefully wrapped around the bun and twisted to make a beautiful headpiece. Byulyi did not place any meori-kkoji in the wrap since Princess Keena requested they be left out. The nighttime look was simple yet elegant, a style fit for a Queen to be.

“Is Aga waiting for me?” Princess Keena yawned behind her hand as the three maids nodded their heads and she stood from the seat in front of her vanity. She headed out to the sitting room with sure steps, her head held high as her eyes fell onto Aga.

Upon hearing the footfalls of the Princess, Aga rose to his feet and placed his fist over his heart as the Princess came into view. Yellow eyes searched for any hint of pain, there were small scratches that wouldn’t leave any marks on the Princess’ face but aside from that Aga saw nothing. His chest slowly loosened as air flowed into his lungs, it was easier to breathe and the Princess smiled.

“Forgive me, Aga. It was foolish to roam the town in secret.”

Aga felt his ire as it sat heavy on his tongue, it poisoned his heart but he knew from the regret in the Princess’ eyes that she had meant her words. Aga’s shoulders slumped as he fell to his knees and caught himself on the edge of the couch with a loud sigh.

“Your Father would have my head if anything were to ever happen to you on my watch.”

“Agust and Ceyeh protected me.”

“They should not have had to come out at all, Princess.”

Aga’s voice was firm as he grunted his words and Princess Keena nodded her head in agreement. She slowly sat beside Aga and carefully placed her hands over top of his silently. Aga said nothing as he turned his wrists, his palms now facing upward as he wrapped his fingers around the Princess’ much smaller hands.

“I am glad you are safe but our enemies wish for your downfall. Do not be so foolish again.”

“You have my word, Aga. I swear it to those before us.”

Aga squeezed the Princess’ hands tightly just once before he released her and stood to his full height. He offered a hand to help her up and the Princess’ brows pulled together in a silent question.

“Come. Her Royal Majesty has requested your presence.”

“At this hour…does she know of our attack?”

Aga shook his head and cleared his throat before he spoke up, “This pertains to a different matter; one of high priority. I know you must be tired-”

The Princess waved off Aga’s words and stood with his help as she placed her hand in his, “Nonsense, Aga. Lead the way.”

The halls leading to the Emperor’s chambers were lined with guards who bowed their heads low at the sight of the Princess. Aga walked with his head held high, while Mingi and Chan guarded the rear with the Princess in the center. Both guards regarded the Princess with stony faces while their eyes quivered in worry. Princess Kenna offered a silent apology for causing such a panic in the palace with a subtle bow of her head and it was accepted without any words needed.

The footfalls of the Princess echoed softly in the hall, her green slippers peaked out from underneath her skirt with each step. She kept her own head raised high, her face impassive as she looked ahead and focused on the middle of Aga’s shoulders. Movement from in front caught the Princess’ attention and she was surprised to see Hoseok standing outside of the Emperor's rooms.

Hoseok bowed his head and gave a small acknowledgement to Aga and the others before he offered a relieved smile to the Princess. “I am pleased to see you in good health, Princess.”

“Forgive me for worrying you needlessly, Hoseok.”

Hoseok nodded his head with a tight smile and motioned to the door that led into the Emperor’s chambers. “They are waiting for you, Princess.”

The Princess looked to Aga for clarification as to what Hoseok meant by they but Aga simply ignored the silent question and moved towards the guards at the door. “Princess Keena is here upon Her Royal Highness’ request for an audience.”

As the guards opened the doors, Princess Keena felt her heart start to beat quickly in her chest. The air was heavy. Thick with the sharp scent of medical herbs and sickness. The Princess willed her legs to move and slowly entered the Emperor’s chambers. The doors closed behind her and she jumped at the thud that rang out, announcing her presence. The Emperor’s sitting room was beautiful and warm. Brown, red and gold were illuminated in the soft glow of multiple sunstones hidden within burgundy paper lanterns and sconces that sat on the walls.

There were a few servants that sat on the floor, knees bents underneath them as they waited to be called upon. They kept their heads bowed in a show of respect to the Princess and she quietly followed a clear path to the Emperor’s bedchambers. She walked through two large moon doors that opened into a wide office and dining room before she came before a set of large dark wooden doors. There was a hand carved dragon soaring in the sky, painted in gold with red rubies for eyes that acted as the handles of the door.

The Princess wasn’t sure what she would find behind the closed doors but she forced herself to push them open. The Empress was waiting and she didn’t want to worry her any longer. Sage, basil, ginger and something bitter like rotten grapefruit and copper assaulted the Princess’ nose and her lips pinched tightly into a thin line. She knew the scent all too well and carefully stepped into the room.

The room was split into two sections separated by two large wooden partitions with depictions of a mountain and sky painted on the hanji paper. They were cut into alternating waves so, where one was tall the other was shorter to create the illusion of multiple mountains. It was beautiful and beyond them, curtains of translucent white hung from the ceiling in soft layers with gleaming golds and reds in between. The wooden floor was dark and glossy, covered by an elegant red area rug trimmed in golden thread and tassels.

As the Princess walked farther into the room, she heard voices that spoke too softly to hear clearly. She pushed forward and soon came before the bed of the Emperor, it was enormous, even by royal standards. A circular futon with a thick mattress covered in thin blankets of puce and burgundy. Gold pillows both round and long with white and black embroidery, littered the space; in the center lay Emperor Chungho. His usually pale skin had a grey hue to it, his copper eyes were hazy and his signature updo was undone. His black hair hung low past his shoulders and just brushed the bedding. Gone were the flashy robes, in their place an ice white robe with wide sleeves and shimmering gold threading covered the Emperor's body.

Empress Eunkyung sat at his bedside, her colorful robes replaced with a pale cream cross collar blouse with a three inch brocade collar that disappeared into a matching pleated skirt with green, blue and tan colors that created an ocean scene. A single cream belt wrapped around her waist, thin and shiny that stood out against the simple fabric. She wore a celadon robe over top with white and gold dragons reaching for one another on the sleeves. Her blond hair was pulled into a low bun that sat at the back of her neck and some strands framed her face, hiding her swollen eyes from view.

Across from her, the Prince sat motionless. His head was hung low with his hair falling in his face as a curtain, hidden from all. His robes were black with gold stitching, a stark contrast to the brighter tones within the room and the Princess thought that his attire matched the scents in the air. She stared at the Prince for a moment longer, noticed the way his hands were clapped together on the bed, his fingers locked tightly around his father’s hand, knuckles cut and slightly red.

“Sit down, dear girl.”

The Emperor’s voice pulled the Princess’ eyes back onto himself and she was meant with the kindest of tired smiles. Empress Eunkyung patted the seat beside her and as the Princess moved to sit, she felt the Prince’s eyes on her. The Empress pulled Princess Keena close the moment she sat down and hugged her tightly. Sure hands petted down her hair and smoothed over her back as the Empress rocked from side to side.

“Never do that again!” She scolded, tears heavy in her voice. “Never…never do that again.”

Princess Keena felt tears burn her eyes, how long had it been since she was held in such a manner? The Prince’s embrace was warmth and strong, a fortress that kept her heart safe but here in the Empress’ arms…the Princess’ heartache for the touch of her own mother.

“Dearheart, you are crushing the poor girl.”

Empress Min slowly loosened her arms around the Princess and pulled back to get a good look at her face. “You are unharmed, child?”

Princess Keena nodded her head, “I am unharmed-” her eyes flickered over to the Prince and she felt her blood freeze at the sight of white bandages on his right eye.

The Prince felt her gaze and when he raised his head to meet her stare, his left eye was bloodshot and puffy. There was a twitch that pulled at the corner of his lips and in the blink of an eye, the Princess was in his arms. The young royals clung to each other, the Prince holding the Princess tightly in his arms as his tears soaked the fabric around her chest. Soft hands smoothed through his short blond hair and Princess Keena pressed a million kisses to the crown of his head.

They were on top of each other, the Princess held firmly in the Prince’s lap - a sight that was forbidden outside of their chambers. Empress Min smiled at the sight and the Emperor felt his own lips pull into a wide grin. Young love; it reminded them both of happier times. Princess Keena cupped the Prince’s face in her hands gently and forced him upward so that she could see his face up close. The bandages around his right eye were damp with his tears but the moisture seemingly disappeared little by little. The wraps were made from danbannite cloth, a high grade cotton material that is infused with danbannite dust, a native stone to the south that was found to absorb moisture quickly.

“Your eye-”

“A flesh wound. Only a minor inconvenience for now.”

The Prince easily lied to spare the Princess’ feelings and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. Their noses and lips were so close yet so far apart.

“Forgive me, my gem? It was foolish-”

Princess Keena placed a finger against the Prince’s lips and shook her head, “Hush now, my Prince. None of that. It was no one’s fault.”

Prince Yoongi sighed against the finger on his lips and kissed it softly, “I put your life in danger.”

“That is the curse of royal blood.”

From the bed, Emperor Min cleared his throat and the young royals quickly pulled apart. The Princess moved to stand but Prince Yoongi tightened his hold around her waist and soaked in her warmth. Seated in the Prince’s lap sideways before the Prince’s parents, Princess Keena’s face heated quickly. Empress Min reached for her husband’s hand and squeezed it lightly before she spoke.

“We are disappointed in your actions tonight. The situation could have been a lot worse had not your animal spirits taken over to protect you both.” Her warm eyes were a little harsher than normal as she spoke but the fire was dim, subdued in a way that the young couple had never seen before.

“As we sit on the throne before our people, we have a duty to uphold,” Empress Min continued to speak. “We are the strength of our people and they look to us for guidance in uncertain times…”

Emperor Min sat up a little more in his bed and held his head high as he took over the conversation. He studied his son and his soon-to-be daughter with dark eyes. The skin around his jaw was taut and pale. There was a sickness behind his brave face and the Princess felt as the Prince’s blunt nails dug into the fabric of her robe.

“As Emperor, it is my duty to the people to see that they are always taken care of and safe. It is to ensure our empire remains an unmoving force and beacon of hope.” He looked into his son’s eyes and melted just a little at the fondness he felt as memories of the past flashed in his mind. His throat felt dry and as he inhaled, a wet gurgle came from deep within his chest before he covered his mouth and fell into a coughing fit.

Empress Min rubbed the back of the Emperor's free hand soothingly and the Princess quickly reached beside her to the water basin that sat next to the bed and ladled a cup of water. The Prince remained silent as he watched his father, his pillar of strength and stability come back to himself as he sipped at his water and breathed slowly.

Emperor Min cleared his throat and sighed, “The sun is setting and my time within its warmth is coming to an end.”

Yoongi had known the moment he smelled his father, death was an unmistakable stench and it lingered in the air with a thick haze of blood. Likewise, the Princess had guessed that the Emperor was sick but to assume he was dying, she had forbidden the thought. The Prince’s warmth pressed against her body felt hotter, and blunt nails had started to sharpen in distress. Princess Keena placed her hands over top of the Prince’s and pulled them to rest against the flat her stomach.

“Is there no cure for your ailment?” Yoongi questioned, his eyes wide as he stared at his father.

Emperor Min shook his head slowly and licked his lips, “There is not but Hyungwon has assured me that he will be able to make my time left-”

“Have we reached out to a neighboring land? There are great doctors and magic in the treetop village just-”

“Yoongi-”

“No,” Yoongi’s voice was shaken, grumbled with unshed tears as he clung to the Princess. “Father, we have to tr-”

“Enough!”

Emperor Min’s voice echoed throughout the room, his eyes were molten brown as he stared at his son. The vein in his temple ticked harshly in time with his heart and he looked tired. The Prince’s vision blurred as he watched the fight leave his father’s body and his chest started to ache.

“Hyungwon has given us a timeframe, it isn’t exact but it is enough to prepare.” Empress Min smiled softly at her husband as she spoke and turned her attention to the young royals across from her. “Before Chungho leaves us, we will host your coronation and you will take your rightful place upon the throne.”

“Mother-”

“It is my wish, Yoongi. I want to see you both on the throne before I leave this world.”

“Father…”

Emperor Min’s nose started to itch and he pinched it between his thumb and index finger before he sniffled and cleared his throat. “This is my last gift to you, will you accept it?”

The Emperor's words hung heavy in the air, hope and desperation intertwined so tightly that it was hard to refuse. The Prince stared at his father for a long while in silence before he inhaled silently and rested his forehead against the Princess’ shoulder blade, his face now hidden. Tears fell from his left eye and the Princess felt a bittersweet sorrow seep into her skin.

The Prince held her tightly and she stroked the length of his fingers back and forth with the tips of her own. It was a silent comfort, the only thing she could offer the Prince to show her support. If he agreed to take the throne, she would stand by his side and face whatever was to come their way.

“My son, I know this is an unfair request. You may feel unfit to rule at such an age but you have surrounded yourself with fine council. You will have the support of the Queen Dowager, your Queen Mother. Agust will guide you well enough in times of uncertainty. It is in a dragon’s nature to live a life of splendor and power.”

Emperor Min spoke with such convection that no one argued against his words. The Emperor was dying and in his place, his only heir, Prince Yoongi had to stand. The Prince inhaled a shaky breath and tried to clear the tears from his throat before he rapidly blinked away any unshed tears. He lifted his face and stared at his parents from over the Princess’ shoulder. They looked so much older than he remembered. There were fine lines and wisps of grey, their eyes weren’t as bright. The Prince knew what he had to do and with a clear conscience he tightened his hold on the Princess and nodded his head.

“As you wish, Father. I will lead this kingdom proudly in your place. To the ancient dragons who came before and watch over us, I swear it.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

Empress Min looked pleased and offered a tender smile to the young royals before she pressed her lips into a tight line. She shared a silent look with her husband and spoke up. “In light of tonight’s events there must be an investigation. All those who are found guilty in aiding your excursion outside of the palace walls will be punished.”

“Your Majesty-”

Empress Min’s eyes flashed gold as the Princess tried to interrupt her. “There is no room for such blanket disregard for your status. Errors such as tonight, through no fault of your own, must be handled properly. There is an informant within the walls and we will find them.”

Princess Keena’s eyes widen at the news of an informant and she sinks into the Prince’s arms. She knows her attendants well, they would never betray her or the Prince. They were attacked on a whim, it wasn’t planned. Even while wearing basic garb, the Princess stood out because of her skin tone and accent. It was clear to anyone that she was from a foreign land.

“The orders have already been issued. Princess, your handmaids and guards will be held in the cells until they can be questioned. If they are found guilty, they will be put to death for treason.”

The Princess’ body stiffened at those words but she forced herself to ask the only question on her mind. “And if they are innocent?”

Empress Min stared at the Princess and took in the rigidness of her back and the way her nails seemed to bite into the Prince’s wrists. The young royal was scared and though it was cruel, the Empress thought to herself that it was a needed emotion as she spoke clearly, “No one is innocent in this ordeal, Princess. Your safety as well as the Prince’s was put at risk. For their negligence the lot of them will be whipped and flogged.”

Soon after, the Prince and Princess emerged from the Emperor’s chambers, arm in arm. The Prince’s face was puffy and the Princess’ eyes were tinted red. Hoseok, Aga and the rest of the Princess’ guards were not in sight. New guards that she didn’t know the names of, stood before her and the Princess pressed herself closer into the Prince’s side.

The new guards didn’t point out how pitiful the royals looked and followed them back towards their chambers. Princess Keena’s hand slipped into the Prince’s as they came to her door and the Prince laced their fingers together before they walked right past the door. New guards stood out front of his chambers and he led the Princess inside.

“You still keep your post no farther than here,” the Prince growled to the new guards as three of them followed into his room. They moved about the chambers as a whole and checked for any sign of a threat before they allowed the Prince to take the Princess away to his bed. Prince Yoongi slammed the doors shut, the bang loud and hard enough to rattle the walls before he turned to the Princess and watched her fall apart silently.

The Princess had her arms wrapped around herself, her head ducked and she sat on the edge of the bed with her legs pressed so tightly together. The Prince ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips. He pulled his thumb to his lips and started to gnaw at the nail bed as he thought of Hoseok being whipped for something he had no part of. He thought of Aga who had only stayed behind in the Min Empire to teach their soldiers and protect the Princess. It didn’t sit well with the Prince, none of them deserved to be hurt for his immature actions. He should have thought more in advance. He should have paid heed to the consequences of his actions.

“Y-Yoongi….”

The Prince’s mind shut off and he rushed to the Princess. He dropped to his knees before her, the pain a minor afterthought as the plush rug gave way to his weight. He cupped her hands in his and pressed his lips to her fingertips.

Her tears splashed against the fabric of her robe and the Prince shook his head. “No, no, my gem. No more tears. Hush now, my gem. Please?”

The Prince’s words were spoken with a soft urgency that flooded the Princess’ mind and suffocated her endless thoughts. Her body shook with heavy soul clenching sobs and Yoongi crawled onto the bed. He pulled her into his arms and laid with the Princess in his arms as she cried for her friends.

“Forgive me. I-It was foolish of me to take you outside of the walls. I-I…”

The Prince didn’t know what to say as his own eyes burned with tears. Everyone would be hurt because of him and here he was holding the one person he never meant to hurt the most. Prince Yoongi vaguely recalled a conversation he had with Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin about the possibility of a spy within the walls but it was one he dismissed. Now as he held the Princess he wondered if he should have taken the conversation more seriously. His ignorance and pride had cost him the Princess’ happiness and the blood of those closest to them both. The Prince would spend the rest of his life making up for his wrongdoings, to the ancient dragons who came before and watch over them, he swore it.

#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #daechwita!yoongi #dragon!yoongi #bts fantasy au #fic: blackthorn ch 16 #soc yoongi

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