#youre essentially claiming that jimin is too good to work with anyone else

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

We don't care about this collab. He ruined the chance to shine alone. Or maybe they don't trust him and his voice. He needed help from another artist

Listen.

Listen. Listen.

I can see where you're coming from, but the thing is: we don't know what went on behind the scenes. We don't know everything that happened. Maybe he knew it would be a collab from the get go and wasn't allowed to say anything. Maybe he's the one who suggested it. Maybe he didn't get a say in how it was marketed. We don't know!! The only information we had was Jimin was doing an OST. That's it. We're the ones who assumed it was a solo like Jin's and Tae's OSTs have been.

The way I see it, this is still a solo project because it's something he's doing outside of and apart from BTS. So I still care about it and I'm still excited for it and I bet it'll still be amazing.

Tae and Hobi said they've already heard the song and that it was really good, and Jimin said it was something different than what he's previously done and that he wants to try doing more different things in the future. If anger and disregard is how he's going to be met every time he tries something new, just because it doesn't meet whatever expectation you have in your mind for him, then who's really the one "ruining his chance to shine alone"?

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (quatre)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violence, manipulation

undoubtedly, the boys have opened their arms and hearts to you. but have you done the same? life has only gotten more stressful for you, and the closer you find yourself getting to them, the more you feel as though you are changing, and the more you push yourself away. you refuse to break. never forget: one’s hubris could be their hamartia. forge your lonely path with conviction. after all, it may not be yours for much longer. the victor or the fallen--exactly who is it that stands to lose the most?

——————————————————————

For a long time now, you had feared that your relatively peaceful days in Ichabod were coming to an end, and recent events only further proved your point. 

Mana’s forewarning carried its weight well, as Aemilia seemed dead set on making an enemy of you. She went from hardly acknowledging your existence to cursing it. 

She would never lift a finger to do her dirty work, oh no, for how could the delicate Augustus princess stoop so low as to take the garbage out herself?

No, she used her puppets Brooklyn, Constance, and whoever else she managed to sink her claws into in the student body to torment you. 

They tripped you in the halls, stole your belongings, and essentially made it difficult for you to bleed into the background like you used to.

Luckily for you, you happened to gain some formidable allies.

Mana was there to tell Aemilia’s lackeys to back down, and they wouldn’t dare approach you with Jimin around. And he happened to be around more often than not, strangely enough.

The three of you managed to form a strange alliance during this time. Your best friend was still extremely cautious around Jimin and his siblings, as were you, but they had gotten somewhat closer, which made you glad. You didn’t want to be the bridge between them, as you thought that would be tiring and more than you could already handle. 

Still, the two were only human. They wouldn’t always be there to defend you. Nevertheless, you were quite capable of defending yourself. 

You didn’t give Aemilia the satisfaction of breaking under her pressure. You held your head up high despite the amounts of rumors flying around the school about you, even if they made you want to split your own skull open. 

The student body, in part, was divided. Half of them wanted nothing to do with you, considering how you were associated with both the Augustuses and the Kims. They were wary of your actions, claiming you were steps away from meeting Wylynne herself. 

The other half whispered about how tired they were of Aemilia’s antics and tantrums, given that this was not the first time she had behaved like this toward another student. 

Two weeks passed by, and neither you nor Aemilia was giving in. The strawberry blonde was beside herself, and so were her poor friends. Every day that she failed to teach you a lesson was another day she went raving mad in private.

Soon enough, her patience would snap. She would find herself going over the tipping point, but the question remains: Who would stand to lose the most when she got there?

It was another stressful day for you at Ichabod Academy as you sat in your lively homeroom. 

Mana rested on your desk, laying their head on their arms. You figured they would be uncomfortable, considering the way their body was twisted around in their seat, but your friend was drifting off without a care in the world. 

You slumped in your chair, looking every bit as done with life as you had recently felt. There was so much you had to be on the lookout for, and today was no different. 

You blinked tiredly and looked at your best friend. You then decided to lay your head on top of Mana’s, who did nothing more than let out a grunt, and closed your eyes in an attempt to get some rest as well.

When Jimin returned from the restroom, he internally cooed at the sight. 

Your head started rocking back and forth as it tilted dangerously on top of Mana’s. Ensuring he wouldn’t wake you, the boy sat you up and leaned your body on him so that your head was resting on his shoulder. 

He smiled down at you in relief. Your classmates took note of his treatment and started to whisper about the two of you, but one look from him and the room quieted.

Unfortunately for you, the peace was short lived. There was a loud crackling over the intercom that shook both you and Mana awake. 

They sat up and glared at their surroundings in annoyance. You opened your eyes in a flash, desperately hoping it wasn’t your first period teacher. 

“Don’t worry, Ms. Diivi isn’t here yet.” Jimin reassured you. “It was just the intercom.”

You nodded in thanks and covered your yawn with the back of your hand.

There was some more crackling and finally, your principal began to speak. 

“Good afternoon, students. I apologize for the interruption, but this is urgent.  Constance Pierre is to report to the principal’s office immediately. I repeat, Constance Pierre to the principal’s office. Thank you for your attention, and please continue about your day.”

You squinted in confusion. 

Constance has never been called to the principal’s office before in her entire life. Even when she was causing trouble for you and other students, the teachers paid no mind and others were too afraid to report her. What could have happened?

The sound of feet pounding against the floor got closer and closer until you could hear it outside your classroom door. A blonde blur passed the room, disappearing as fast as it had come.

“Pierre...why does that name sound familiar?” You murmured to yourself.

“It’s the name of the freshman that went missing.” Mana said as they stretched. “Chance Pierre, I think.”

Your eyes widened in understanding.

“He was-is Constance’s little brother.” They corrected their statement.

Jimin glanced at your shocked expression and suppressed a dry laugh.

Quite frankly, he could care less about the Pierre family. Constance has been nothing but a nuisance to him and his brother.

He’d been willing to overlook the rumors of how annoyingly outstanding and clever the freshman was because he knew his little brother would always be better. 

But after the blonde went so far as to start pestering you, he used the information he’d gathered against Chance in its opportune moment. And he had no regrets.

You snuck a peek at Jimin and saw a familiar, cold decisiveness plastered on his face. It was the only expression you’d been seeing from him for a while now. Any time someone brought up the missing student, Jimin would go frostily silent. 

It reminded you of the difference between the two of you, just like his reaction--or lack thereof--the morning of Chance’s disappearance had.

You figured he was just uncomfortable talking about the situation and was carefully avoiding it, just as he had with you and Mana that first day you spent lunch together.

At least it wasn’t Mom or Mana, you thought to yourself.

“They must’ve finally found him.” You commented, distracted by your incoming thoughts.

Aemilia’s family is specifically in charge of hunting down anyone who can be perceived as a “threat” to the Kim family. Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre, however, acquired social immunity for themselves and their families as the girls are so close.

Or so you thought.

Constance’s disheveled appearance the morning Chance went missing made much more sense, then. She was worried sick about her little brother, and one of her closest friends didn’t even bother warning her or her family. 

You shuddered. Just how many people would Aemilia sacrifice? How far would she go, just for her sick sense of what was right?

You had no intention of finding out.

By lunch time, the rest of the school had heard exactly what happened to poor Chance Pierre.

The fourteen year old boy was deposited in the family’s living room, returned out of the blue just like all of those who came before him. 

His mother had stepped out for a short moment to go grocery shopping and returned to find her bloody mess of a son, who she then quickly rushed to the hospital.

He was covered in bruises, had a broken arm and leg, several broken ribs, and permanent blindness in his left eye. All things considered, he is one of the lucky ones.

His family was just grateful that he was returned to them still breathing.

Whatever the message was, the Pierre family had received it loud and clear. And so had the rest of the town.

No one is allowed to leave Ichabod. Not without being stopped by Death herself. 

Another school day had come to an end, and you walked out the building with Mana and Jimin at your side. 

Seeing how the end of the month was coming up, you and Jimin decided that it would be best if you went over to his house to work on the project again. The beginning of the presentations were not far off and it was about time you completed your research.

It didn’t take long to convince your mother. The both of you found it easier for you to go over to the Kim residence than to ask Jimin if he could come to your home.

You sat on a granite bench outside of the entrance. Mana stood on your left, leaning up against the wall and Jimin sat to your right, perched on the bench. 

You were waiting for Driver Bin and Mr. Waye to show up when you heard a familiar voice call out.  

“(Y/N)! Jimin hyung!” You watched as Taehyung came running out the school doors, Jungkook trailing calmly behind him.

You waved at the two and gave them a tired smile. Taehyung made himself comfortable on Jimin’s lap as Jungkook stood along the wall near Mana.

“Did you have a good day, (Y/N)?” Taehyung hummed, eyes teeming with concern.

“Yeah, it was fine.” You said, struggling to actually mean that statement. 

Mana gave you a knowing look and huffed out a laugh under their breath.

It’s not as though you almost had your things stolen twice in one day.

This morning, Hoseok saw you chasing a junior who was running away with some of your notebooks and folders in hand. 

His charming smile dropped and he gave her a grim look. All he had to do was extend his hand and she placed the items in his palm, which he then promptly returned to you.

Then one of your classmates stole your laptop while you were at lunch in an effort to wipe the thing. Had it not been for Namjoon walking into the library and catching them in the act, you surely would have lost all of your information. 

Thankfully, he safely retrieved your laptop from your classmate. You made a new password for all of your devices and resolved to never let your bag out of your sight again.

“I’m glad you’re coming over again, though! Maybe we’ll get to watch a movie or play some games together.” He flashed you a boxy grin and you sent him a small smile in return.

“Jungkookie’s got loads of games,” Jimin added, peeking his head out from behind Taehyung. “He’s such a hoarder, he rarely lets us play with him. I’m sure he’d let you, though.”

Jungkook punched Jimin in the shoulder, looking at the ground in embarrassment. “Hyung, what are you saying...”

 “Yeah, that sounds nice.” You sighed absentmindedly. “I could do with a break from school and homework for like, the next month.”

The youngest brother flushed, peeking up at you through his bangs. “If you wanted to, I’d be happy to play with you.” He mumbled as he smiled.

“Oh, there’s Driver Bin!” Taehyung called, hopping up and pulling you and Jimin to your feet. 

You hugged Mana goodbye as the black van pulled up to the curb. Just as you turned to follow Jimin, however, someone knocked their shoulder into yours. 

“Oh, sweetie. You should really watch where you’re going.”

Brooklyn stood in your path with her arms crossed. Over her shoulder, you saw Aemilia and Constance standing a short distance away.  They looked as though they were about to make their way towards Aemilia’s family’s car. 

Of course, she could have just walked around you, but why would she ever let you off easy? 

The strawberry blonde wore a satisfied smile and she leaned over to whisper something in the ear of a haggard Constance. Constance merely blinked and nodded in response. 

You smiled at the girl in front of you. “Of course. It was all my mistake. I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.”

You stepped closer as though you were going to confront her and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward you before she could step back.

She fought against you but that only made you grip her arm tighter. You could feel your nails start to dig into her skin.

 “I’m sorry that you’re nothing more than a means to an end.” You murmured in her ear.

The brunette stilled.

“I’m sorry Aemilia couldn’t care less about you or your family.”  You continued, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sorry that your so called friend sees you as mere disposable goods, or should I say...a useful little puppet?”

You released your grip on her arm, bringing your hand up to her shoulder instead and giving it a few consoling pats. “Didn’t your little sister just get the lead role in the school play? I would hate for you to be the next Constance...”

You looked toward the blonde just to emphasize your point and Brooklyn’s eyes followed your gaze.

Constance was staring, unseeing, at the ground, nervously clinging to Aemilia like a lifeline. She was strangely quiet and obedient...like a dog in fear of disobeying its master.

Brooklyn looked back and forth between you, Aemilia, and Constance in utter shock. You sent her one more sympathetic look before moving around her to follow the Kims into their car.

The remaining students whispered, wondering about what you said and in the corner of your eye, you saw Mana tilt their head inquisitively. You knew they had questions, questions you would have to answer later.

You bowed in greeting to Mr. Bin and entered the car behind Jimin like last time, Namjoon going in after you.

Mr. Bin closed the door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle in preparation to leave.

“I’ve never seen Brooklyn look so shocked,” Taehyung said from the backseat. He put his hands on the headrest behind you and poked his head around it. “What did you tell her?”

You shrugged. “Something that could hopefully put her life in a different perspective.”

“I don’t know how you deal with those girls, (Y/N).” Jimin said. “Aren’t you tired of the tricks Aemilia’s playing?”

“Don’t you just want to get rid of them, once and for all?” Taehyung asked, tone darkening.

You shrugged. “For whatever reason, she’s currently obsessed with me-”

The reason being all of you-

“-and of course I want her to stop, but I would never give her the satisfaction of letting her think she won. She’s petty, and a bully.”

You texted your mother an update on your location and locked your phone, looking up at your classmates. “She just needs a reality check. I’d be happy to give it to her every now and then.”

Part of you felt like trying to care for Brooklyn was pointless, especially after the way she treated you. The other part of you felt you were killing two birds with one stone--you were opening her eyes and isolating Aemilia in one go.

While Namjoon and Hoseok nodded in understanding, the rest of the boys couldn’t help but worry. 

They all followed Namjoon’s advice religiously in fear of scaring you away. But what if your independence only made it harder for them to be able to be there for you? What if you never came to them on your own for assistance?

...They would simply have to make it so that you had no other choice, would they not?

But the circumstances were not yet that dire, so for now, you had nothing to fear.

——————————————————————

The ride into the woods was pleasantly silent, and this time you made sure you didn’t fall asleep.

All too soon, Mr. Bin drove the van past the wrought-iron gate and up the impressive driveway. You weren’t as nervous as you were your first time visiting their residence, but you still had your guard up.

The boys bound up the wooden steps and opened the front door, piling into their home. You entered last, quietly closing the door behind you. 

As you were taking off your shoes, you spied a pair of nude slides next to all of the black ones.

Jungkook noticed you looking at them and smiled. “Mother prepared them for you. She saw you wearing hyung’s pair the last time you came over and ordered them after you left with your mom.”

“That’s so kind of her,” you said, slightly in awe. “I’ll be sure to express my thanks.”

You never thought you’d reach the day where Mrs. Kim would welcome you so readily into her home, but here you stood corrected. 

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Jimin called to you from the stairway.

“Coming!” You lay your shoes at the door, slid your feet into the slippers, and went to catch up with him, climbing upstairs. 

The library had hardly changed since you were gone. The shelves were just as dusty and dilapidated as before, and the couch was just as comfortable.

You maintained a safe distance away from Jimin this time as well so he wouldn’t get the opportunity to pull any tricks.

You spent the majority of the afternoon on writing the paper together, as you both had agreed. A few hours later, you finished and decided to get a head start on the presentation.

“‘The strength of a Nephilim depends on which angelic order their parent hails from,’” You read out to Jimin as he added to your shared document from his laptop. 

“‘The sheer majority, however, were parented by those in the third sphere. This was the lowest order consisting of the angels most concerned with the affairs of humans: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels.’”

“Got it.” He claimed, typing out a couple more sentences. “I think we have enough for the background information, but Mrs. Hargrove also wants us to discuss the religions they come from, their abilities and their weaknesses.”

You hummed. “Angels are mentioned in a multitude of religions, but Nephilim are really only mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, according to sources.”

“So that question shouldn’t be so difficult to answer,” He smiled, marking it. 

“Nephilim are really strong,” you said from behind the book cover, fascinated by the information it held. “They appear as ordinary humans on the outside but possess celestial powers bestowed upon them by their angelic parent. They’re faster and stronger than ordinary humans, and are excellent at reading people.” 

Jimin took the book from you and glanced further down in the book to see if he could find more specific powers for your project. 

“Oh, I found something here.” 

You opened your laptop and prepared to type as he read. 

“It says Nephilim possess super strength, longevity, the power of flight, healing abilities, teleportation, telepathy, angelic wrath, illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and telekinesis.” He raised his eyebrow in awe. 

You chuckled as your hands raced to keep up with his words. “Illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and what?”

“Telekinesis, the ability to move things with your mind.” He said. 

“I could use that all the time--like, the other day, I was waiting in front of the student council room to return the uniform I borrowed.” 

You recounted the story for Jimin as he peeked up at you. You were too engrossed in typing, however, to notice his gaze.  “I could have sworn the door was locked, but then Namjoon appeared and it unlocked without him pulling out a key or anything. He just flicked his wrist and open sesame.”

Jimin unabashedly stared at you, a small smile on his face. You always noticed the littlest things about them and it made his heart pound for you a little harder.

“Namjoon hyung always comes in at the coolest moments,” he replied, looking down at what you’d managed to gather so far. “So, we have the powers and where they come from. I think we found a section on their weaknesses the other day.”

“Yeah, it sounds like their main weakness is original sin, or the innate tendency to sin, all humans receive once they’re born.” You thought back to the section you and Jimin read before. “Because they’re part human and part angel, they are constantly at war with themselves and the human side typically wins.”

“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Jimin asked. 

You closed your laptop. “...What do you mean?”

Jimin shifted, tucking his legs underneath him. “I mean, they’re celestial beings. They have cosmic powers at their disposal, access to the heavens, and everything they could have wanted. But they have a choice to throw it away, to sin, for...whatever the reason may be.” He muttered, glancing aside at the carpet. “If they gave it up, do you think they would have made the right decision?”

You paused for a moment, eyeing the shadows nearby branches cast on the library windows. “It think it depends on the person and what they’re sinning for. Whether they were doing it for their own self interest, or to protect a loved one-”

“What if they were doing it because they loved someone?” Jimin interrupted, eyes widened in curiosity.

Your eyes left the window as you turned to face him. “I would admire their dedication. And it’s not as though they lose their abilities when they fall from grace. I only wish that person would be worth it, and that they’re happy.” 

You smiled wistfully. “An angel losing their wings to love someone for the rest of their life. What a sad, beautiful thing. ’Tis the plight of being human, I suppose. They’re really not that different from us--besides the celestial gifts, of course.”

Jimin grinned and hummed in agreement. 

As always, only you could understand them perfectly.

You stood up from the couch and brushed off the back of your skirt. “Uh, Jimin, could you please tell me where the bathroom is?”

He smiled. “Yeah! You just make a left at the corner, then a right, then another right, and there should be a guest room with a bathroom in it.”

You zoned into and out of your thoughts momentarily and blinked, smiling and nodding at him. “Thanks.”

——————————————————————

Perhaps Jimin told you the directions incorrectly, or you made a left when you should have made a right, but there was no doubt about it. You were lost. There was no bathroom where he stated there was, and you’d been wandering around the third floor for several minutes now with no clue as to where it was.

“Damn this house.” You muttered under your breath. “Only seven people live here, why is it so big?”

You finally came upon what looked like a guest room, one that hopefully had a bathroom inside, when you heard two voices speaking from the behind the partially open door. 

“Seriously. You need to be more careful with these sorts of things.” The first voice said, deep and mature.

You stopped in your tracks immediately.

“It’s not like I wanted this to happen.” the second one spoke. Their voice was much lower and raspier than the first. 

“Of course you didn’t. That’s why you should pay more attention when doing your work.” The first voice nagged and you heard someone hiss.

“Ah, it’s fine. It was worth it. Still, thanks for patching me up, hyung.”

You were stuck near the crack in the door, too afraid to move in fear of being heard. 

“Whatever. You’re too reckless. Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, come on. How was I supposed to know that the kid would make such a-”

“Stop talking.” The first voice stated, sounding much lower than it had before. 

Your eyes shook at the sudden silence and you whipped around to look at the hallway, quickly searching for a place to hide.

About two steps behind you, there was a five foot long indent in the wall, courtesy of the prominent display of a large painting.

You risked it and threw yourself backward, stepping as quietly onto the wood as you could before throwing your back up against the indent, facing away from the room. 

And not a moment too soon, as you heard the door fly open the second you were hidden from view. You sunk to the floor in a crouch.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” You could hear the younger’s voice sound from the room much clearer now.

You sucked yourself as tightly into the corner as you could.

There was no response from the older and you strained your ears for a sign, a hint, anything.

Breathing felt too loud, swallowing felt too loud, the brush of your clothes against your neck as you turned your head felt too loud. Everything was deafening.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me-

There was the slow, soft padding of feet on the wooden floor. You trembled as it got closer and closer to where you sat. 

In the corner of your eye, you could see a socked foot, inches away from where you hid.

“Jin hyung!”

Your savior, none other than Jimin, appeared at the end of the hallway, yelling in excitement.

You know he saw you, of course he saw you. It was impossible not to coming from his direction. You cast your eyes down, praying he wouldn’t reveal your presence.

He grinned as he ran towards the man. 

“You came back early!” The younger boy tackled him in a hug, wrapping his legs around him. 

The force drove the man back several steps and he grunted, his foot disappearing from your sight. “Jimin, you’re getting a bit too old for this, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but I know you’ll always carry me, hyung.” You heard him giggle. 

“What are you doing up here?” The other voice asked, joining the other two in the hallway. You remained where you sat, not moving an inch. 

“Yoongi hyung! You came back too!”

He scoffed. “Of course I did.”

“Answer his question first, Jimin ah.” You heard the elder comment in a much warmer voice than the threatening tone you heard behind the door. 

“I was in the library working on a project with my classmate. She had to use the bathroom but she never came back, so I came looking for her.”

You blinked rapidly, staring at the wooden floor in front of you.

There was a pause. 

“Have either of you seen her?” Jimin asked.

“...No, we haven’t.” The deep and mature voice, which you now matched to the eldest brother, replied. 

“I’ll just keep looking, then. But you should head downstairs. Father will be home soon, he’ll be pleased to know you’re here!”

Due to the series of complaints you then heard, it sounded as though Jimin took both of his brothers by the wrist and led them to the stairway down the other side of the hallway. 

You waited in that spot for several moments, until you couldn’t hear anything but the wind blowing up against the walls. Once you ensured that they were gone, you ran back down the hallway you came, bladder be damned.

Of course. How could you have possibly forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s two eldest children?

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin.

Had you not moved when you did, and had Jimin not interfered when he had, you might have...no, you surely would have lost your life in that instant.

——————————————————————

You made it back to the library, quickly and quietly opening the door before rushing in.

Jimin still hadn’t returned, so no one was there to see you fly over to the couch and plop down to sit. You tried to catch your breath to slow the pounding of your heart.

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin. You were almost caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

You had never wanted to purge your memory more than in that exact moment.

What if they suspect I heard everything? What if they have the Augustuses’ people capture me for it? It couldn’t have been that important--it sounded like they were just patching up wounds. Maybe one of them got into a fight? Surely this wouldn’t be enough to warrant such violence. Even they have limits, yes? Then again, when did they ever need a reason to-

The library doors flew open and you flinched, looking up at them only to sigh in relief.

“(Y/N), there you are! Did you find the bathroom alright?”

Jimin’s eyes twinkled playfully as he smiled at you. You restrained yourself from cursing at or hitting him in anger and relief, choosing instead to let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah,” you stated quietly. “It was fine.”

At that moment you received a text from your mother stating that she was downstairs.

"My mom says she’s here. I guess it’s time for me to go.” You stated, beginning to pack your laptop and notebooks away.

“Sure! I’ll come downstairs with you.” He smiled and turned away from you to return The Word of the Lost to its proper shelf.

“Thanks,” you whispered, then zipped your bag up.

Jimin was already gliding away toward the back of the library, the leather bound book in hand, but he still managed to hear you. He didn’t respond, but he smirked triumphantly.

You accepted his silence as a “You’re welcome” and took the moment to fix your composure. When you were both ready, he led the way downstairs.

“My eldest sons have finally returned home!” You heard Kim Moonsik cheer from the living room. 

His tone, usually melancholic and oily, was much lighter today. You surmised that even his mood could be improved by the sight of his family.

He sat on one of the two settees while his two oldest sons perched on the long, gray couch in front of him. 

They both had black hair and dark eyes, like their brothers and parents. One was casually dressed in a large black hoodie and black sweatpants, while the other looked comfortable in a neutral toned sweater and slacks.

The one sitting on the left rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why you had hyung drag me here a week earlier than necessary, Father. It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Kim Yoongi was notorious for his rebellious attitude. You had heard that since his days at Ichabod Academy, he never listened to authority figures--his classmates were afraid of him and his teachers let him do as he please. The only time he would adhere to rules and tradition was at the required monthly meetings, for obvious reasons.

“On the contrary,” The older man chuckled. “Every time you come home is cause for occasion, my prodigal son.”

“Have some sympathy for me here.” The eldest drawled with his arms crossed. “I get a headache every time I’m forced to drag you home with me.”

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, was an entertainer. He would lower people’s defenses with a friendly expression and a joke. The citizens of Ichabod found him much more agreeable and respectable as Mayor Kim’s eldest son. They thought him harmless. They fawned over him and Namjoon, praising the mayor for how well he’d raised them in terms of respect and diplomacy.

They were fools. For even now, you could see it as he lounged back relaxedly in his seat: Kim Seokjin may be considered kind and polite, but he was by no means harmless. 

“Do you want me to bring you some medicine?” Jimin piped up from beside you on the stairs, drawing the three’s attention. 

You could feel the college students’ gaze burning into the side of your face.

You kept your facial expression neutral and descended the stairs behind Jimin, who skipped down the rest of them. 

“Who’s this?” You heard Yoongi question.

“This is my classmate, (Y/N). She’s the person I was looking for earlier,” Jimin said, seating himself in between his older brothers.

You bowed toward them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Seokjin smiled and reached out his hand. You extended yours, expecting a handshake. 

He held it, turned it over, and pressed his lips to the back of it. “The pleasure is all ours.” 

Yoongi smirked as you took your hand back, fighting a blush. “How lovely it is to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, you too. It’s nice to see you again as well, Mr. Kim.” You addressed the older man.

“You also, (Y/N) dear. I’m simply ecstatic you took up our invitation.” Mayor Kim said, the usual, passionate fire in his eyes blazing. 

You fought back a shudder. 

“You know the entire town needs to be present, Yoongi ah.” Mr. Kim continued the conversation from before. “You’re no exception.”

“I never said I was,” the second oldest retorted. “I just prefer to spend less of my break here.”

“How’s everything at school, Jiminie?” Seokjin asked as Jimin wrapped his arms around his midsection, skillfully redirecting the subject matter.

“Strange, as usual.” He mumbled, hesitantly looking up at you. 

“I heard the police finally found the Pierre boy,” Mr. Kim added, and you suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in the presence of this conversation.

Where’s my mother? Weren’t we supposed to be leaving?

“Yes, we heard about it at lunch.” Jimin said. His tone when speaking to his father wasn’t as clipped or standoffish as it was when he was speaking to his mother; rather, it was more lackadaisical. “Right, (Y/N)?”

All four heads spun to you, still standing in the middle of the living room. 

“Why are you standing there looking so stiff?” Seokjin sent you a sinister smile. “Come join us.”

This was the last place you wanted to be, but you had no choice in the matter. You smiled awkwardly and shuffled to the empty settee. 

Before you could sit down, however, Jimin jumped up and pulled you to the couch, seating you in his old spot between his brothers. He then claimed the spot on the other side of Seokjin.

You stiffened and relaxed in a second, praying to everything that you didn’t look as uncomfortable as you felt.

The atmosphere was stifling. You couldn’t breathe.

“It’s a shame what happened to him, truly.” Mr. Kim continued, humming in sympathy. “I sincerely hope something like that doesn’t have to happen again.”

How dare he sit here and act as though he had nothing to do with it? What happened to Chance Pierre was his fault! You unconsciously balled your fist in your lap.

“I’m sure everyone will take this lesson to heart, Father.” Seokjin consoled him. “May they never underestimate the power of Wylynne’s grace again.”

“She is holy and forgiving, but some actions need to be punished, yes.” Yoongi added from your right with a cruel smirk. “Praise Wylynne.”

“Praise Wylynne.” Jimin nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement.

It suddenly occurred to you that you were the only one left who had not spoken. When you raised your eyes to meet with the others’, indeed, they were waiting for your response.

“...Praise Wylynne.” You smiled. False religion or not, there was no way you would be testing your luck in front of the divine priest and his sons.

Mr. Kim nodded in approval, then broke out into a laugh. “Wise, hardworking, and devoted; like mother, like daughter. Wylynne surely smiles upon the women of the (L/N) family.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Will your mother be arriving to get you soon?” Mr. Kim asked you.

“It was to my knowledge that she was already here-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your head spun toward the sound of your mother’s voice and found her standing in the entryway next to Kim Eunbyul. She wore navy blue scrubs today and her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose strands in the front. 

You had thought right. The two were a vision next to each other.

Mrs. Kim walked over, bringing your mother with her. “I apologize for the wait--(M/N) and I were having the most delightful conversation. (Y/N) my dear, how are you?”

She sat next to her husband on one settee and your mother took a seat on the other, empty one. 

This was your second time seeing Mrs. Kim, yet you still could not get over her beauty. She wore another silk housedress, a muslin scarf draped behind her back and over her inner arms. 

Her elegance was neither ostentatious nor arrogant. She demanded respect but gave it in return. 

She had what Aemilia desperately sought after but could never possess.

You nodded with a smile, bowing slightly. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim. I’m fine, thanks for worrying. And thank you so much for the sandals, I really appreciate you going out of your way for me.”

The former actress waved her hand lightly as she laughed. “It was no trouble at all!”

She took your hands in hers and looked down at her feet. “Besides, we match!” Following her gaze, your eyes widened. Indeed, you both had the same style and brand of slippers on.

“Thank you so much for the welcoming her so warmly, Mrs. Kim.” Your mother smiled. 

“Of course.” She assured. “Think nothing of it. I already think of you both as family.”

Your heart warmed a bit and you smiled in response to her words, for you already greatly admired Mrs. Kim. To think that she had taken a liking to both you and your mother...

It was then that the rest of the brothers trekked downstairs in curiosity, then heartily grinned once they realized their oldest brothers had arrived.

“How about we let the kids step aside so us adults can talk properly, hmm?” Mrs. Kim suggested, taking her husband’s hand.

Mr. Kim grinned and squeezed her hand in response. “A wonderful idea, love.”

The boys then quickly pulled you away from the main couches, moving your discussion toward the glass windows. 

You looked back at your mom a couple of times while the brothers greeted each other before focusing on the conversation at hand.

The eight of you stood in a circle near the windows, and you were currently stuck between Jungkook and Seokjin. 

“The other day, (Y/N) said she really liked your interior designing, Jin hyung.” Hoseok piped up. “She said she thought the living room was lovely.”

“Did she? She must have impeccable taste.” He playfully winked at you.

You smiled weakly. “Thank you. I really admire what you’ve done with the space.”

Yoongi, across from you, leaned against the glass. “How is everything at the academy these days?” He asked. 

You hesitated to answer then directed your gaze to the floor thinking the question was not meant for you. When you didn’t hear any of the other boys speak, you looked up and found six sets of eyes on you.

Their gazes were so focused and intense, as if you would break or disappear the moment they looked away. You shifted your eyes.

“It’s not the easiest, but isn’t that what high school is like for everyone?” You grimace-smiled.

“(Y/N)’s being bullied.” Taehyung revealed, draping himself over Jimin’s shoulder. “Aemilia Augustus and her lackeys won’t leave her alone.”

This little-

You whipped your head around to see if your mother had heard anything. Thankfully, Taehyung’s voice was lowered at the time. She seemed engrossed in her discussion with Mrs. Kim. 

“The Augustus princess?” Yoongi asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

“She’s what?” Jin started in surprise, his polite smile turning into a displeased frown. He glanced at Namjoon. The student council president simply nodded in response.

“She has the other kids pester or steal from (Y/N).” Hoseok added, glaring out the window. “The students can hardly stop talking about it.” 

Jungkook gently tugged on your shirt sleeve to get your attention. “If she’ s bothering you--” 

“It’s alright.” You assured them before they could really give Aemilia and her people a reason to go after you. “I’m working it out.”

“And how well is that going?” Namjoon snorted, giving you a knowing look.

You grimaced, locking and unlocking your phone. “...I’m working it out.” You repeated, suddenly fascinated by the wooden floor.

“If she ever gives you a hard time, you let me know.” Yoongi said, holding up his fists. One hand was wrapped in bandages and the other hand was bare, knuckles covered in torn skin and still-healing scabs. “I don’t get these from just lying around, if you catch my drift.”

You gaped at his hands and at the offer. Kim Yoongi? Offering to beat someone up for you? Where had his famous apathetic attitude gone?

“Violence is never the answer, Yoongi ah.” Seokjin replied before you could. He gently took your phone from you while it was unlocked and swiped around until he found your contacts. “If you ever need help, just give us a call. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We’ll always be there.”

You opened and closed your mouth in distress. 

Seokjin pointedly ignored the glare Namjoon was sending his way. 

He was jealous of his younger brothers, who got to see and speak with you every day. Earlier, he’d been in the middle of healing and wrapping Yoongi’s injury when he saw your shadow outside the door. 

He’d barely been able to hold himself back from ripping you out your hiding spot and pulling you into his arms. But then all of their progress would have been for naught. 

So he allowed Jimin to drag him away. 

But not anymore.

He understood that you needed your time and space but, really, their angel shouldn’t be so stubborn around them. 

He held the device out to you and you took it back, observing the six newest additions to your contacts list. He’d taken the time to add not just his number, but the rest of the brothers’ numbers as well.

“Thank you,” You confided with a rare, genuine, and small smile, “really. But I can handle it myself.”

On the outside, some of them nodded while the others frowned at the floor.

On the inside, however, they collectively sighed inside their head, tired of your age old response.

They just wanted you to be able to lean on them, to see them as another option that was always available to you, and only you.

How long was it going to take for you to trust them? How far would they have to go to capture the object of their desire?

Whatever the obstacle, they would surely overcome it. 

Your mother called your name once more and you shouldered your bag, replacing the nude slippers with your school shoes.

“I hope you have a pleasant night,” You said to the brothers, fumbling with your shoes. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow!” Jimin waved you off with a smile and his brothers and parents chorused farewells behind him.

You both bowed once more to the Kim family and descended the stairs, making as hasty but collected an exit as possible.

“I swear, (Y/N), I lose years off my life every time I come to this house,” your mother murmured once you both sat in the car.

“You know what, Mom? So do I.” You exhaled, slumping down in the front seat. “Drive slowly, won’t you? I might be the one throwing up once we reach the edge of the woods.”

Your mother barked out a laugh and nodded in thanks to Mr. Bin as he opened the gate. 

As you drove away from the Kim family home, you opened your messages and texted Mana, updating them on how you’d nearly lost your life this time.

That night, you ate dinner, cleaned up, finished other assignments, and had an hours long conversation with Mana about Brooklyn and your latest visit to the Kim residence.

The way their eyes bugged out of their head when you told them about how you’d nearly gotten caught made you laugh. Of course, it hadn’t been funny in the moment. Even thinking about it now made you slightly nauseous.

But you went to sleep that night all the same, dreaming once again of haunting, magnificent black wings.

——————————————————————

Once the front door of the Kim household closed, Jimin’s cheerful face dropped into a scowl. 

And he was not the only one upset. All seven of them glowered around the room in the aftermath of (Y/N)’s departure.

Kim Eunbyul and Kim Moonsik sat deathly still on the couch, unprepared for whatever was coming.

When someone is explosive with anger, they are destructive. One might break things, they may say harmful words, but for the most part, one takes their anger out in that single moment.

The seven men behind them were different.  

When they were angry, they plotted. The harder it was for them to get what they wanted, the harder they fought. They made sure there would be nothing that could possibly be in their way. 

“We told you to be patient, hyung.” Namjoon broke the angry silence. “Don’t ruin all of our plans with your ineptitude.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Seokjin scoffed. “I put your number in her phone, too. Try being a little grateful.”

“Don’t disrespect your elders, Namjoon.” Hoseok chided, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We told you to put your dog on her leash.”

“You weren’t complaining when Aemilia’s antics gave you opportunities to help (Y/N),” Namjoon sneered. “I loathe her very existence as well, don’t misunderstand me.”

“You should hear the rumors going around at school, Namjoon hyung.” Jungkook frowned. “People are placing bets on how soon Aemilia’s going to destroy her.”

“I know you’re the brains of this operation but if (Y/N) gets hurt, this is not going to end prettily.” Yoongi stated solemnly.

“I won’t let it get to that point.” Namjoon assured.

“Get it together. And keep that girl in line.” Seokjin nodded.

There was a significant reason Eunbyul was so receptive of the (h/c) haired girl and her mother. 

Despite the fact that she really did enjoy your company and was happy to welcome you into their home, she knew what would await her if she ever dared to mistreat you.

You precious thing. You precious, hardheaded, stubborn thing. Why did you not give in to what they wanted? Could you truly not see how much they how much they longed to protect possess be with you?

Perhaps you’ve already started picking up on it, and this was why you wanted to distance yourself from them before it was too late.

You beautiful, foolish thing. It was already far too late.

Eunbyul quivered, squeezing her husband’s hand. Moonsik wore a stony expression on his face, but he squeezed his wife’s hand back with surprising strength. 

When she looked up from her lap, she gasped, for Jungkook was squatting directly in front of her. She felt as though his dark gaze was piercing her soul.

The probability of that very thing happening in this instant was high.

She exhaled and carefully avoided his gaze.

“Mother, Father,” he hummed, “is everything alright? You’re shaking like leaves in the wind.”

“Oh dear.” Taehyung replied, resting his arms on the back of the settee behind them. He tilted his head and frowned down at the two as if they were insects, scurrying around in an attempt to escape their deaths. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“I’m sure it was just a result of them working so hard.” Seokjin smiled at Moonsik. “I must say, I was impressed.” The elder simply nodded and avoided his gaze.

Namjoon strolled over to Eunbyul’s side of the settee and gently pat the woman on her back. “Your performance today was especially moving, Mother.”

“At least she wasn’t trembling in front of (Y/N) like she did last time,” Jimin kissed his teeth. “Useless woman.”

Hoseok bent over in laughter, the outburst shortening into a light giggle as he joined them by the couches. 

“They work diligently, why not praise them once in a while?” He suggested, suppressing another laugh.

“Like I’ll ever.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I really hope you know what you’re talking about, Namjoon hyung. I’m going to bed before I feel the need to hit something--or someone.” Jimin glared and bounded back up the stairs.

“It’s alright. We’re fine.” Eunbyul forced out. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you should be. If you weren’t, it would imply you did something wrong.” Yoongi smiled.

“And if you did something wrong,” Jin continued, “...well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She stiffly nodded. 

“Of course not.” Taehyung grinned and pat her head condescendingly. 

“Of course.” Moonshik repeated, willing his hands to stop trembling.

He had never expected this to happen. He never thought he would be living the life that he did.

He had called for power, and he had surely received it, but not in the way he thought he would.

Was the insurmountable power worth the treatment he received in his own home?

Yes. And if he had to repeat it, he would have made the exact same decision. It would surely be worth it. That was what he told himself day in and day out, the prayer he spoke to his god in an attempt to convince himself of the lie.

It would surely be worth it.

“We’re trusting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” 

——————————————————————

The Augustus residence was a fairly old building, a beautiful family manor transformed into a modern, affluent home. It stood in the center of the city, as their family used to be the epicenter of society. 

Aemilia found both her home and its location extremely fitting. 

As unfortunate as it would be that she would have to move from this stately home to one in the middle-of-nowhere woods, she was willing to deal with it. She would follow her future husband anywhere, everywhere, if need be.

Usually, the esteemed Augustus home was silent. 

“How could you?” Brooklyn shouted in anger.

But today, those grand old walls whispered in the wind through quite the ruckus.

“The people that work for your family dragged Constance’s little brother out of his home in the middle of the day! They tortured him for two weeks! You knew where he was the whole time, and you didn’t say a thing!” Brooklyn gestured toward their friend. “She came to you for help, and you slammed the door in her face!”

The blonde had stopped talking long ago. She curled herself into a ball and tucked her head into her chest, looking well on the verge of a panic attack. 

The three girls had arrived at Aemilia’s house earlier, prepared to do the usual: finish some homework, study, and binge watch some shows. 

But (Y/N) (L/N)’s words had been ringing inside of Brooklyn’s head all afternoon. 

A means to an end. 

Disposable goods.

A useful little puppet.

She couldn’t take thinking it anymore, so she finally voiced the dreaded question. Brooklyn asked Aemilia what she and Constance meant to her.

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, staying quiet for several minutes. She then grinned and replied,“My ladies in waiting?”

For Wylynne’s sake. She could have at least been less direct than to compare them to literal servants.

Brooklyn erupted at Aemilia, asking her if that’s what she thought years of friendship had amounted to, thus leading them to their current argument.

For whatever reason, it had never occurred to the brunette that Aemilia may be using her. She thought she had broken the barriers the callous girl held for her long ago, but after Constance showed up at Brooklyn’s house in tears, combined with Aemilia’s response to Chance’s disappearance...

Perhaps it was time she seriously reevaluated their “friendship”.

“Don’t you think you could have reassured her that he was alive? Even police officers tell family members when people have been arrested.” Brooklyn glared at the other girl.

“Get real, Brooklyn. This isn’t a stupid police station. This is Ichabod. It’s because we live in Ichabod that Chance broke the law, and received his due punishment.” Aemilia justified coldly.

“A fourteen year old boy in laying in his bed, covered in bruises and permanently blind in one eye. But I need to get real because this is Ichabod, and that somehow makes it okay?” Brooklyn raised her volume, disturbed by how convicted Aemilia was in her reasoning. “How could you possibly think that makes it okay?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Aemilia sneered, “I wasn’t aware that I needed your opinion or approval for my thoughts and actions.”

“That’s exactly the problem! This is about you playing us, using us through your actions! I honestly thought we meant more than that to you!” She snarled in response.

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Aemilia shrugged. “You and Constance used me for popularity and safety, and now you come crying to me, claiming that I can’t use you in return?” She barked out a laugh. “That hardly seems fair. How ungrateful.”

The brunette couldn’t deny the benefits that came along with being close to the strawberry blonde, but for her to twist their entire history and friendship into one of utility? She was beside herself with anger.

“Used you? You think we used you? For what?” She roared. “Your money? Your status? Don’t you think we have those exact same things?” 

Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre were not one’s normal, run of the mill best friends. In fact, they were in extremely similar situations to Aemilia, for their families were also members of the old city elite. 

The Hayes and Pierres had lived in Ichabod for nearly as long as the Augustuses. They may not have had the same amount of prestige that Aemilia lay claim to, but they certainly were not far off.

“You grew up with us and thought we were nothing more than what? Walking labels that strengthened your social status? People you could use to do your bidding?” Brooklyn deadpanned. “We were nothing more than pawns in your game, weren’t we?”

“We didn’t befriend you because of your title or your family, Aemilia. We befriended you because we admired you and your personality. We weren’t the ones that twisted your perception of us into toys, or puppets, or ladies in waiting.” She gave a mirthless smile. “That was all you.”

Aemilia paused, reminiscing on her younger days. In every interaction she ever experienced, she was treated like royalty. At some point, she simply assumed it was natural for everyone to bend to her every whim.

Everyone...except for those two.

They had approached her for some childish reason like playing dolls or tag or other, but it was all genuine. 

“I honestly can’t believe you.” Brooklyn shook her head at her silence and stormed around the room, collecting her and Constance’s materials and shoving them into their respective bags. 

“All these years. All these years, and I was that clueless, that hopeful.” Brooklyn muttered as she gave her a cruel smile. “I can’t believe (Y/N) (L/N) knew you better than I did.” 

Aemilia’s face flushed bright red. 

“Your ladies in waiting are going to relieve themselves of their position now.” Brooklyn carefully dragged the non responsive blonde to her feet, holding both of their bags and contacting her personal driver. She curled her lip. “Please feel free to march your way to the throne by yourself, your highness.” 

The door slammed shut behind them, and for a moment, the residence was silent once more.

Then, with an anguished cry, Aemilia picked up whatever textbooks were nearby and vaulted them at her walls.

First, her future husband. Next, her friends. What would that (h/c) haired bitch steal next? Her life?

“No. No. I won’t let it get that far. I would never let you get away with it!” She screamed, hurling another book. 

Her bedroom door swung open and her father ducked the incoming textbook. “Aemilia! What on earth is going on? Brooklyn and Constance just left looking extremely upset, did you three have an argument?”

She dropped the rest of the textbooks, raced to her father and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Daddy, I need you to call up the special squadron.”

Aloysius Augustus held his daughter’s hands and warily pried them off of him. “Whatever for?”

Aemilia flashed him a maniacal grin. “Namjoon just texted me. He says his father believes he’s found in another soul in dire need of discipline.”

——————————————————————

Ever since engaging in this battle of wills with Aemilia, you tell yourself that there isn’t anything that could surprise you anymore.

Yet the actions of your classmates the next morning were strange. Stranger than you could possibly anticipate.

You entered the classroom and found a group of girls standing in a huddle around a desk, whispering to one another.

The room was strangely empty. Neither Mana nor Jimin had arrived yet, nor had some of your other classmates known for coming to school relatively early.

The girls noticed your entrance and quieted immediately. You found this suspicious, so you decided you wanted nothing to do with them. You shifted your gaze away from them and kept on walking to your seat.

That is, until you heard one of them scoff loudly in your direction.

“I mean, just look at her. She walks around the school as if she’s better than us, just because Ms. Diivi had Jimin sit next to her.”

You froze but their tittering only got louder. 

The girl that scoffed before, a classmate of yours named Seph, left the group and stood in front of you with crossed arms.

“You’re not anything special, (Y/N). You shouldn’t mistake yourself.”

The others seemed to agree with her as, soon enough, they left the desk one by one to surround you.

“It’s really pathetic how you practically beg for Jimin’s attention.”

“The other day, when you made him give you his sweater? It was really embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I could hardly stand to watch.”

They imitated your shivering as they laughed, making it look as though you were having a seizure.

“You used to be tolerable at the least, but Jimin transferred to our class and you finally decided to take the opportunity to climb the ranks, huh?” Another sneered.

You could hardly move. You were stuck in place, the words swimming around in your head.

Externally, you stared down at the ground in confusion, but internally, you were shocked. You couldn’t believe the accusations the girls were coming up with.

Even after everything this town had been through, the Kim brothers still had some sort of deluded fan club...and now they were coming after you.

“What the hell?” You finally said, lifting your head to look each of them in the eye. “Why would I go begging for his attention?”

“Don’t try to deny it, bitch.” Seph snarled. “You used to keep your head down and mind your business like the rest of us, but now, all of a sudden, you’re relishing in the spotlight.”

“We’ll see just how much Jimin likes you soon enough.” One of her lackeys snickered.

They left you where you stood, turning their attention to the doorway.

You could see Jimin from the glass window in the door, waving goodbye to Taehyung as he headed off to his respective classroom. He reached down to twist the knob and pulled the door open.

Had you blinked, you would have missed the entire thing.

Seph pulled a bucket out from under the desk they were all crowded around and threw its contents all over Jimin.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in shock as he was doused in water from head to toe. His uniform was soaked and his hair lost its floofy nature, flattening down over his eyes.

One of the girls ripped the bucket away from her and shoved it into your hands. They moved back in tandem, shocked gasps hiding their deeds as Jimin wiped water out of his eyes, which landed on you holding the bucket.

“(Y/N)...?”

You were just as shocked as he was, mouth agape. The evidence was completely against you.

He looked up at you with teary eyes. He looked hurt, so angry, you figured there was no way you were going to get out of this.

“I didn’t do it, why would I?” You protested.

“Jimin, are you alright?” The ringleader picked back up, skillfully concealing a triumphant smirk with an open look of concern. “(Y/N), how could you do such an awful thing? Especially after he’s been nothing but kind to you...”

Wow, does she get lessons from Mrs. Kim or something?

You dropped the bucket in surprise. “No! Jimin, it wasn’t me, I promise, they just grabbed the bucket out of nowhere-”

This is it. My mother is going to have to bury her daughter young. I failed to provide for her, or thank her for everything she’s done for me. Your thoughts couldn’t stop racing. 

“Even for a prank, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?” They continued behind you.

“She’s been acting all this time. I’m not surprised.” 

“He treated her so well and it all just blew up in his face.”

“That’s just like her.”

“She’s lying directly to his face, how fake.”

“Disgusting.”

They continued spouting lies in front of Jimin, telling him about how you were only using him, how you would curse his very existence behind his back. 

Jimin approached you, his wet shoes squeaking on the tile floors.

You backed up, intimidated, bumping the back of your leg against another desk and falling to the floor.

...Would begging help? 

When you finally looked up at him, begging felt like an appealing option.

Jimin’s eyes glistened, chocolate colored irises now hardened and flashing gold.

They were even colder than the ones you’d seen in your dreams, and you felt the temperature around you drop considerably.

You must have been going crazy with terror, something that wasn’t completely amiss in your town. The girls behind you were feasting on the fearful expression in your eyes.

Then, right as you were about to stand, Jimin gently put his hands on your elbows and guided you up.

To their surprise, he tugged you to your feet, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you in for a hug.

“You must have been so scared, weren’t you, (Y/N)?” Jimin whispered in your ear. “Those rats dared to mess with you. They tried to come between us with petty rumors and tricks. It’s okay, I’m here now. I believe you.”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back, the water from his uniform seeping into the front of yours. “I’ll make sure you have nothing to fear.”

Jimin pulled away from the hug, smiling at you. He then turned to face the girls, and with that same chilling smile, spoke.

“You all enjoy playing pranks, yes?”

The girls’ expressions changed in a matter of seconds, from snickers and taunts to tearful pleads.

Seph could hardly pick her jaw up off the floor. “Jimin! It was (Y/N), we all saw her-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You heard a low chuckle sound from the doorway and whipped your head towards the sound.

“I saw everything with my own eyes.” Hoseok stood in the entrance, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame.

When had he gotten there?

“And quite frankly, I don’t take too kindly to you lying about what happened to my darling little brother.” His famed smile slipped from his face as he stared down the girls with more hatred than you’d ever seen him possess.

“Jimin...” you reached out to get his attention, but he couldn’t pry his gaze away from the detestable scum that stood before him.

How quickly the tables had turned, you thought as you watched them cower.

Jimin calmly walked toward her and tucked his hand underneath her chin, yanking her ear to his mouth.

He directly whispered into Seph’s ear, but everyone in the room besides (Y/N) heard the same thing, the message pulsing loud and clear inside their heads.

“I’ll make you wish you had never done that.”

He left the group huddling against one another in fright.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Hoseok smirked and kicked off the door, walking off with his hands in his pocket.

You stood, incredulous at what had just happened.

“Jimin.” You lay your hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his, turning to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide with expectation.

“Let’s go see your brother, we can get you some new clothes.” You said softly. He smiled serenely and nodded, dragging you to the door by the hand.

Before you could step out, however, he turned around to face them and glowered. “Clean this mess up.”

Seph whimpered and knelt down to pick up the bucket. The other girls scrambled to collect paper towels to dry the floor.

You watched them, trying to conjure up some form of sympathy. That could have been you, cowering beneath him. Moments ago, that was you.

Frighteningly enough, that familiar, heart-strengthening feeling made no appearance. There was no hatred, no remorse. You felt nothing as you were dragged away to the third floor.

Jimin knocked on the door to the student council room, smiling as he spotted his brother. Namjoon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hyung! I need a new uniform.”

He stepped back to let the two of you enter. Jimin released your hand and beelined for the atrium, grabbing a new shirt and a pair of pants. He then stepped into the bathroom and loudly shut the door.

“Do you mind telling me what that was all about?” Namjoon looked down at you for a moment before his eyes flew up and he stared at the wall with newfound interest. “Feel free to grab a change of clothes as well.”

You followed his gaze and jumped at just how wet the front of your shirt had gotten. “Thanks,” you muttered, desperately hiding your blush.

I’m seriously finding myself back here too often.

You got another polo from the closet and left the door open as you changed, praying that Jimin wouldn’t leave the bathroom and that Namjoon wouldn’t walk around the corner. To keep him busy, you filled him in on what had happened moments before.

When you were finished, you stepped out into the main room with your wet shirt folded over your arm. Namjoon leaned against the wooden table with his arms crossed. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or punch someone.

You glanced at Namjoon and thought back to the way he looked at the people around him.

It quickly dawned on you how bothered you were by Namjoon’s view of everyone around him as some sort of game. 

He always wore an amused smile on his face: when he was looking at his mother in his family home, when he heard what Constance did to you, when he saw all of the students worrying over Chance, and whenever Aemilia and her antics were brought up.

He probably thought he was so clever at hiding it, at being the misfortunate yet accomplished gentleman that everyone perceived him to be, but you saw right through his act.

“The audacity they have to dare make such a ruckus on school property,” He clenched his jaw. “Don’t worry. They will surely receive proper punishment.”

You nodded, eyes glazing over with indifference.

You were too grateful that it was not you or Mana and too exhausted to be concerned with the affairs of other students.

They should have been prepared for this, at the very least. You were only worried about the well being of you and your loved ones.

Did that make you incredibly selfish? Did that make you just like...them?

A hot flash of anger rose in you and died as quickly as it had appeared.

Perhaps Namjoon’s act angered you because it was so similar to, no, better, than your own.

Your face twisted in response to your thoughts. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to pay you back. Tell Jimin I’ll see him in class,” you muttered and bowed then left, needing to separate yourself from them as soon as possible.

Namjoon watched you leave, intrigued by the sudden look of displeasure you wore. “...She noticed,” he chuckled to himself.

"She must not have liked it,” Jimin said as he walked out, fully changed. His hair was still a little wet, but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of later.

Namjoon scoffed.

His little brother subsequently seized opportunity of your absence to explain to Namjoon just how delightful you looked in front of him.

“She looked as though she were about to beg, hyung. As gorgeous a sight as it was, those lower beings had the nerve to send her to her knees.” Jimin growled. “They terrified her, made her think I was going to hurt her.”

“What would you like to do with them?” Namjoon asked him as he leaned against the wooden table, a familiar smirk on his face.

By the end of homeroom, those girls were removed from your section. By the end of lunch, they had left your class and the school completely.

——————————————————————

The final bell rang and you lifted your head off your desk. You’d been trapped in your thoughts since earlier today, but your class schedule had given you no time to focus on your inner monologue.

Someone’s finger tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts, directing your attention to them. 

A freshman stood before you nervously and passed you a folded piece of paper. 

“Thanks,” you muttered.

The kid nodded and scurried out of the classroom.

You unfolded the paper, reading the slightly disorganized handwriting. 

You and me, (L/N). Show up alone. Rooftop. 4 pm.

You didn’t even need to ask the kid who it was from.

“This is the game you’re going to play?” You mumbled to yourself. “You still can’t even confront me face to face.”

Unfortunately for you, you already were alone. Mana never came to school today, as they had gone with their father to visit their grandmother at her nursing home, and Jimin was going to be in robotics club for the next forty-five minutes or so.

Then again, Brooklyn and Constance didn’t look like they were attached to Aemilia’s hip today either. The brunette spent all of lunch sending her a bunch of particularly nasty glares from across the cafeteria.

You eyed the clock. fiddling with your phone. After several minutes of deliberation, you opened it to text your mother that you would take yourself home today. 

Let’s get this over with.

Approximately thirty minutes later, you shouldered your back pack on and made your way to the school staircase. 

You texted Mana an update on where you were going and what you were going to do, just in case. After a second thought, you also texted Jimin.

They must not have had their phones on them because they didn’t text back immediately, so you locked yours and put it in your pocket.

When you finally arrived to the rooftop, you saw Aemilia standing near the edge, strawberry blonde ponytail swinging in the autumn breeze.

You already weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home several hours ago. Alas, you were here. 

Your school rooftop was moderately large; appropriate, considering the size of the building. There was nothing up there but a few stacked, forlorn chairs, scattered materials, and blocks of concrete that functioned as storage spaces.

“What do you want, Aemilia?” You asked tiredly. 

She didn’t say anything, nor did she turn around. You walked a couple steps closer to her and stopped. “Hello?” 

“Did you enjoy yourself, (Y/N)?” She asked, her back still facing you. 

You squinted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you enjoy taking everything away from me? Everything that I deemed mine?” Aemilia finally turned to face you. 

On the outside, she looked no different than she had a couple of days ago, but her eyes seemed...hollow.

“I didn’t take anything from you.” You pointed out. “Though, it sounds like you finally realized how skilled you are at pushing people away from you. That has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t lie to my face.” She croaked out a laugh. “Don’t you dare claim that you haven’t stolen anything of mine.”

Her gaze turned malicious. “I thought you’d be a bug. Small, easy to crush. I wanted to make you even more insignificant than you already were. Unidentifiable.”

“But the harder I tried, the more I failed to crush you. I wanted to rub you into the dirt, but you kept on escaping unblemished.” She gazed in bored ire at her own two hands as though there was something on them that only she could see.

“So I realized, if I can’t crush you, then I’ll just have to destroy you. Completely.”

Foreign hands grabbed your arms with a vice and you started, immediately fighting to pry them off. 

“Are you fucking serious? What are you doing?” You voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Had your greatest fear finally come true? Were the Kims actually going to make an example of you?

“I’m simply executing my right as an Augustus. I am removing anyone who is a threat to the Kim’s empire. My future empire.” She calmly remarked, nodding tonce o whoever was behind you. 

No. She was doing this for her own purpose. Her sense of order, of what was right in the world.

“Aemilia! You can’t do this!” Your voice raised in pitch and your breathing increased, your blood pumping faster and faster by the second. The hands on your arms were growing tighter and tighter.

“Oh, (Y/N). I tried to warn you several times. You didn’t listen.” She chided with false disappointment. “You did this to yourself.”

“Are you scared? Have you now realized your wrong doing? What a shame.” You watched in horror as a deranged smile crept its way onto her face and Aemilia threw her head back in laughter. “It’s already too late!”

There was no time for her descent into madness.

You stilled for just a second, then rocked your head back and successfully slammed it into your captor’s. There was a low grunt from behind you and the person let you go. You took off without a second thought.

You didn’t even bother trying the school door, as you knew it would be blocked. 

Instead, you ran past Aemilia, shoving her aside as hard as you could, in the direction of the roof’s edge.

The strawberry blonde fell, but her laughter didn’t pause--if anything, it only rose in volume. 

You realized the person had regained control of themself, as they came barreling after you.

Yet you also knew that one floor below you, there was a balcony informally used by all the students as a multipurpose space. To your knowledge, it consisted of old blankets and furniture.

I’d rather take my chances with an old table or couch than these bastards, you thought as you ran towards the eaves.

The closer you got, the harder your heart beat in your chest. You were terrified. But somehow, under all the fear, you were able to rationally think and suppress your fears. 

You willed yourself to keep running and, before you could think about it, threw yourself over the edge.

You were in the air for about three seconds before your captor grabbed you by the jacket and stopped your descent. With surprising strength, they yanked you up and backward, tackling you to the floor. 

Your body met the concrete with a harsh slam and you yelled out in pain. Hopefully, you had received nothing other than a few nasty bruises. 

Aemilia’s laughter had quieted by now and she stood on her feet. She brushed her clothes off with a pleased grin.

“Nice try, sweetie. Mr. Byun, why don’t you give dear (Y/N) here a reminder on what happens should she mess with the Augustus family?” She crooned.

Your captor pinned your hands behind your back and shifted so that they were kneeling on your arms, bones digging into your back. He grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head repeatedly into the concrete.

It hurt.  

It hurt more than when you sprained your ankle that one time walking to a monthly meeting and had to continue walking on it for the rest of the evening. 

It hurt more than when your mother healed a particularly deep cut of yours by stitching it up herself because she couldn’t afford to take you to the hospital.

It hurt more than seeing your mother’s face whenever you asked about your father. 

Everything hurt.

You couldn’t even cry out in pain as it would take up too much of your effort, effort that you didn’t have to spare.

“Thus, I declare myself the victor of our little battle of wills.” Aemilia chirped, not at all disturbed by the violence occurring in front of her.

There was something hot running down your forehead. After a couple of blinks, red crept into your eyes, falling down your face with your tears. 

“Your pride’s going to be the death of you.” You choked out, then winced as the Mr. Byun kicked you harshly in the stomach.

“Should my time arrive, at least I will go out in a blaze of glory.” She said brazenly, beaming with triumph. As she bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, her strawberry blonde hair turned a shocking red.

You blinked blood out of your eyes and squinted up at Aemilia, not that it helped as your blurry vision kept her form shifting in and out of focus.

“Yet I can’t say the same for you.” 

Then the grip in your hair tightened and your face met concrete for the last time, your entire world going dark.

Halfway across the campus, Kim Jimin turned his phone on and felt his heart drop to his stomach as his eyes landed on your text message.

——————————————————————

hey y’all! whew this is a long one--i’m sorry for taking longer than normal to update! thank you all so much for your enthusiasm and love! i adore reading your theories and comments :D i hope you all enjoy this chapter! feel free to let me know what you think will happen next~

~taglist~

@melaninkpops​ @loserwithapen​ @hellaspookystudent​ @ecillartto​ @omgsuperstarg​ @ace-angel-judas​ @jjamsbangtan​ @lovinggalaxies​ @lovesick-heart0​ @ksxmpoison​ @girlmeetsliv3​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @purpuravm​ @oneweirdbean​ @hopelessfountainjoonie​ @mazmaz30​ @enigmaticlove-03​ @uppiespuppy​ @queenceline22​ @kokofikats​ @taeyohonic​ @creatorspalace​ @supertweetycherry​ @anachikartadze​ 

[solastia]

Tuqburni | Finale - Healing

Pairing: Yoonmin x Reader

Word Count: 5,308

A/N: Here we go, the “Official” ending. I will still eventually put out “Finale: Heartbreak” as an alternate version for those that wanted her to move on, as well as a small epilogue later on (will be nice and smutty and set in the future). For now, though, this is the end. It has been a very long journey with this fic as life often got in the way, and I thank (most of you) for being patient with me. I hope you learned a few things along the way. Each and every one of you is important and precious, never let anyone make you feel like you are a second choice or inferior. All relationships are complicated and communication is key no matter your dynamic. But especially so in polyamorous relationships. If anyone ever makes you feel like “the other” or “the third,” talk to them. If they won’t listen, leave. Your worth is not based on other people. You are worthy all on your own. Also, the weekly plan that my character follows is a real system that works. It was given to me by my counselor who I thought was a nut herself at the time, but it worked so well. I’m still working through a lot of stuff myself, but this weekly routine saved my life. 

It had only been a few months so far, but it felt like a lifetime. 

Seokjin and Namjoon had tried to talk you into staying with them, but you’d decided it would make you feel too guilty to rely on them like that and invade their space. Instead, you were now renting your own apartment. It came furnished and the lease was month to month so you could leave at any time. It felt nice though, having your own space, even if it didn’t allow pets. Especially once you’d been able to reduce Jin’s visits to no more than three times a week. 

Taehyung and Jungkook, friends of all of yours and signed to the company you worked for as idols, finally came back into town a few weeks after “the incident” while you were still staying with Jin. You’d forgotten they were due back and only discovered they were here when Yoongi and Jimin both showed up with black eyes and bruised cheeks. You had assumed they came from Jungkook - who had always looked up to you like an older sister - but you were pleasantly surprised to learn they had been inflicted by his boyfriend Taehyung instead. He had proudly admitted it during lunch one day while demanding a turn at petting your hair, and you wondered if he too saw you as a sister or a pet. Either way, you were touched that he thought enough of you to try to “defend your honor.” 

Still, it wasn’t like you never saw Yoongi and Jimin. You still had to work with them, obviously. Jimin worked on the other side of the building, but he had taken to eating his lunch with you, and you were usually joined by Namjoon and Jin so you didn’t feel too pressured. There was still the looming cloud of ‘someday’ that scared you, but without being forced to pretend to be and feel a certain way every day you were able to look at him in a new light. 

The Jimin that you saw now was one that you had caught glimpses of before. He was sweet and kind, but quick-witted and prone to just enough wicked humor to make him interesting. Unfortunately for you, he seemed to also be a natural flirt and making you flustered was as easy as breathing for him. After a couple weeks, you finally started to flirt back and the results were incredible. He would blush and act so shy that he would practically duck under the table. Seemed he could dish it out but couldn’t take it. Honestly, you were beginning to really look forward to your time with him every day. 

With Yoongi, it was naturally a little harder. Your first day back to work had gone a long way towards smoothing things over a little. Yoongi had actually dropped to his knees and bowed along with his apology. He apologized for the way he’d spoken to you that day, as well as for dragging you down into the mess that your relationship had become. The two of you had cried together and hugged, and he promised to go to counseling as well when you mentioned you had signed up to see someone. Anything, he promised. 

“I’ve been horrible and selfish, but not once did I ever stop loving you. I think I’ll love you until the day I die. I’m going to work hard to deserve even the scrap of affection you might still have for me. If you decide that you want to move on, that’s fine. Whatever makes you happy. But know that I’ll always be here loving you and you can come to me for anything at all.” 

Those words felt like a tattoo on your heart. A promise of forever if you ever wanted to reach out and take it. 

But first, you needed to learn to love yourself before you could accept it. You needed to learn to be strong and figure out more about you as a person before becoming a part of something so complicated again. Maybe then you would believe that you were an important part of the relationship, rather than a side piece or someone that they settled for. 

The first step was signing up for a therapist. She was a little pricy, but out of the four other people that you’d talked to before settling, she’d been the only one that made you feel genuinely comfortable. You were pretty self-aware of your flaws and why you had them in the first place, so it wasn’t like you needed someone to hold your hand and drudge up every painful memory. You just needed help trying to get past it all and get to a place where you were comfortable with yourself. 

The therapist was chill enough that even you thought she might work for Jimin and Yoongi as well, and they quickly made appointments with her when you told them. You obviously weren’t able to know what they were talking about with her, but you’d noticed after a few weeks that both of them seemed a little lighter. Jimin practically sparkled whenever he joined you at lunch and Yoongi was quick to smile when he joined you in your combined studio, sometimes sneaking a coffee onto your desk that was just the way you liked it. He’d even started bringing your dog Holly to the office every day so that you could spend time with him. 

Jimin and Yoongi admitted that several of their sessions have been as a pair since they had the added trauma of Yoongi’s prior attempt on his life. They asked you to come to a couple yourself since you were part of it as well. You were the one to find him and help him through all of it, and they felt that it would help any lingering bitterness or fear from the incident would be helped that way. You agreed and started attending once a month as a group. 

She was wonderful for you, you thought. You never felt judged, not even when you brought up the relationship with Yoongi and Jimin and how it was handled. She simply let you talk and then asked you what you wanted. To close your eyes and envision what you hoped was waiting for you at the end of this journey. 

Yoongi’s face was the first thing you thought of and wasn’t surprising. That Jimin was right there next to him and holding out a hand towards you was. You wanted this to work. You wanted to be happy, and you wanted them to be happy. Without you, if that had to be it. With you would be even better. Somehow Jimin had slotted himself a place in your vision of the future.  

One of her biggest things that she preached was finding a routine that made you feel happy and safe while building your sense of self. She claimed it was an essential part of healing for many, especially those dealing with past trauma like you. That while many of the tasks she wanted you to do seemed silly or self-indulgent, that in the end you might discover more about yourself and develop healthy habits. So, she assigned you a weekly routine to follow. 

There was Me Monday, in which you spent the entire day “dating” yourself. It was a little difficult considering your work, but the day was essentially pampering yourself as much as possible. You eat what you want to eat, you watch what you want, when you get out of work you go do what you want. You use that day to get massages or pedicures. She said it was to teach you that it’s okay to be a little selfish from time to time. That taking care of yourself and putting yourself ahead of someone else on occasion wasn’t a crime. It was healthy because at the end of the day no one else can live your life but you. 

Try Something Tuesday was essentially what it sounded like. You take that day to try something new. You tried out new hobbies, new activities. Anything that you had once said no to because you were scared, this was the day to do them. So far you’d gone to dance classes and discovered you were actually pretty good, went to play laser tag with Jin and his friends, and started biking almost daily with Namjoon. Jungkook has been trying to talk you into going skydiving and the fact that it terrifies you tells you it’s probably going to happen eventually. 

Work through it Wednesday was the day you went to see your therapist. You’d work through the list you had to make throughout the week of things you wanted to cover. A lot of what you went over was stuff that you pretty much knew inside your head, but she would drag it out of you and once it was out there and being spoken about by another person, it helped to see it in a new light. She covered everything from your abandonment issues to the fact that you had never fully put your trust in Yoongi in the first place. That you had always expected him to drop you at any moment and when he brought Jimin in, for you it was simply confirming what you had been telling yourself all along. That you weren’t worthy of being loved and no one would want you. When that came out, she essentially told you to snap out of it. That you shouldn’t let your anxiety win. There was a lot more to it, but you were working on it. 

“Them” Thursdays were one of the more difficult days. Since she counseled all three of you and all of your ultimate goals were to someday find your way back to each other, she allotted you all one day to spend some time all together. Nothing romantic or sexual - simply re-learning each other and discovering how you work together. The first few Thursdays had been borderline painful. You’d all met in a cafe for coffee and awkwardly sat around the table. Jimin would try to talk about funny things he saw on the internet or some anime he was watching in an attempt to kill the silence, while Yoongi usually seemed content to listen while he stared at you like a lost puppy. When it was obvious that something needed changing, your therapist suggested other locales. Places that would give you all a shared experience and something to break the ice. 

The spot that finally worked its magic on all of you was the cat cafe. On your first visit, it was obvious as soon as you all walked in that Jimin was in heaven. He cooed at and cuddled every single one that would let him. You’d never thought of Yoongi as much of a cat person and figured he would just lay around and nap somewhere while you and Jimin played. He did lay out eventually, but was soon joined by at least six cats that all decided he made a perfect bed. 

“Look, they recognize one of their own,” Jimin had giggled to you. 

It soon became a place of comfort for the three of you. Somewhere that seemed to make you all happy and comfortable enough to talk. You were all very careful not to make promises, as that’s not what these visits were about. They were about healing. About getting to know each other on a new deeper level without the pressure of romantic entanglements.

It wasn’t like you all weren’t still attracted to each other, obviously. There were still moments where you would be laughing and glance over at Yoongi only to find him piercing you with hooded eyes, biting his lip in the way that you knew from experience meant he was holding himself back from kissing you. Even Jimin would sometimes flip a switch and go from a giggling dork to running his hands through his hair and looking like sex personified as he stared you down.

Of course, it probably also didn’t help that - unless they were lying - neither of them had even touched each other like that in months. They claimed they were staying in separate bedrooms and didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize everyone’s healing. You mostly believed them because Jimin was always free of hickeys or other marks. Yoongi always left a mark. This made you feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved because that would mean if you decided to start over with each other, it would be from the beginning for everyone. You wouldn’t feel left behind. But you also felt guilty because it seemed like such a selfish thing to expect from them. To expect them to not fuck around when you weren’t even promising getting back together seemed messed up as hell. However, it was Jimin’s idea in the first place and Yoongi had completely agreed with it, so you supposed it was up to them if they wanted to continue that or not. It’s not like you’d know if they did do something since you didn’t live there anymore. 

After “Them” Thursdays was Friend Fridays. Once you began to talk to your therapist more, you realized that your life had pretty much revolved around Yoongi to the point where you hadn’t even maintained or started any friendships outside of the ones you met through him or work. Which wasn’t too bad in your mind, since that meant you had Jin and Namjoon as well as Jungkook and Taehyung, and they were the best friends anyone could ever ask for. However, your therapist recommended seeking out friends of your own that wouldn’t be thrown into the middle of a war should your relationship ever go south again. Friends that were just yours that would have things in common with you and that you could count on to be there for you. This was all easier said than done, as it was hard for adults to make friends outside of work. But you did your best, chatting up other people that you met through your dance classes or other activities. You had a tentative meetup on your next Friday with some girls you’d met at the park. Yoongi was going to leave Holly with you after work and you were going to meet them there and have a meetup with all of your dogs. It wasn’t bad for a first step, you thought. 

Sensual Saturdays was...well, pretty much how it sounded as well. It was your day to convince yourself that you were attractive and desirable. During your sessions, you’d apparently compared yourself to Jimin far too often. You often mentioned how much more beautiful you thought he was than yourself, how you wouldn’t be surprised for anyone to pick him over you. How compatible Yoongi and Jimin were in bed. So, in order to help you cease - or at least lessen - how often you talked down yourself and get you to view yourself in a new light, a day was set aside for you to work on precisely that. You would buy yourself lingerie and walk around in it at home until you were comfortable enough to actually begin to admire yourself in it. You bought a huge mirror for the back of your bedroom door and played with yourself in front of it, curiously watching your expressions as you imagined it was Yoongi’s fingers instead. It was definitely a work in progress and you weren’t sure you’d ever be considered on Jimin’s level realistically, but you were beginning to at least find it more believable when someone complimented you on your appearance. 

Silent Sundays was a day you took to recharge. You left your phone on silent, you kept the TV off, and you ignored everyone. You spent the day writing in the journal you had to keep for therapy, going over everything that happened that week and how you felt you had changed versus what you felt you still needed to work on. You’d also read or draw, sometimes write lyrics, maybe do some baking. It was usually on Sundays that you missed your little house the most, as you pictured a Silent Sunday spent there instead. You’d probably spend it outside working on the garden in the backyard. Holly would walk back and forth between you in the garden and Yoongi muttering curses as he built something on the patio. Jimin would probably come outside to bring you both drinks and peck you on the cheek before he rushed back inside to watch his show, not wanting to stay out in the sun too long. It was such a believable scenario and you could see it so clearly that your chest ached with longing. 

The fact that Jimin was always right there whenever you pictured going home wasn’t lost on you, either. You were beginning to accept fully that somewhere along the line you had dropped your wall of bitterness long enough for him to charm his way through and you were as whipped for him as everyone else was. For every thought you had of Yoongi, one of Jimin followed soon after. You’d imagine Yoongi’s sexy smirk and intense eyes, then Jimin’s lips and strong muscles. You’d think of Yoongi’s quiet thoughtfulness and warm heart, then Jimin’s kindness and cheerful energy.

Whenever you thought of home, you thought of them.

A decision would have to be made soon, but you were pretty sure it was already made in your heart. However, in fairness to yourself, you were going to do one last thing. Try to move on

* 

Jung Hoseok was an absolutely gorgeous man. He was tall and lanky, but with the toned muscles you were used to seeing on dancers. And his smile was dangerous - one moment it was brighter than the sun with adorable dimples, the next it was a smirk lethal enough to melt anyone.  

You had noticed him around the company before, but you’d never really talked to him. He was good friends with Taehyung and Jungkook, and Jin always spoke fondly of him, but back then you were just so wrapped up in Yoongi that only him and those immediately close to him gained your interest. You were a little disappointed you’d never talked to him sooner. 

He was bright and loud and quite possibly the most fun you’d ever had on a date. He was proud and passionate about his work, loved his family and friends, and was absolutely perfect. And yet everything he did, you compared to ‘them.’ Or wondered what they would think. Things like, “Jimin must love this guy.” or “Yoongi would be wishing he would choke on a bread roll just for a moment of quiet.” 

All throughout dinner you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t where you belonged and that he would never be the one. But he was so nice and kept you laughing with his hilariously animated stories that you couldn’t just bail. Instead, you stayed and ordered another glass of wine and giggled as he continued entertaining you. 

An hour later you’re both standing outside of the restaurant making your goodbyes in front of your taxi when his gaze suddenly changes from friendly to smoldering. His eyes rake you from top to bottom and you remember that today was Sensual Saturday. You’d certainly dressed the part. He couldn’t see all the black lace lingerie you had on underneath your red sheath dress, but you’d unquestionably left little to the imagination.  

“So, uh, it’s really unusual for me to ask on a first date, but...maybe we could take this to my place? If you want? It’s just...you are so fucking beautiful and sweet and totally too good to be true. I’ll even throw in breakfast, although I’m a shitty cook. But I’d make it up to you for dinner.” 

“Wow. You have all day tomorrow planned too, huh?” You joke nervously. The two and a half cups of wine you’d had with dinner were settled comfortably in your tummy, warming you in places that made you think that just maybe you could go through with this. You weren’t blind - he was fucking hot as hell - but the thought of being with anyone other than Yoongi, or even Jimin, was terrifying. But your new motto of trying to do things that scare you, along with this being ‘Sensual Saturday’, led you to believe that you really needed to do this. 

“Yeah, kinda pictured a day spent in bed, watching some movies, ordering Chinese...you can tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to or you want to wait. I won’t be offended,” he shrugs, his little grin deepening a dimple. 

You sigh and grab his hand, leading him towards the taxi. “Tell him your address.” 

His eyes widen like he can’t believe his luck and he stutters out his address to the driver. He leans back and buckles in before tentatively reaching over to grab your hand. It’s nice and warm, with pretty fingers. But even then you’re comparing his hands with Yoongi’s beautifully vein-laced ones. 

The building you’re led to is a nice apartment complex - quite a bit nicer than the month-to-month one you’re renting but not fancy enough to make you feel out of place. As he excitedly pulls you into the elevator and onto his floor, you realize the light buzz of alcohol that was clouding your thoughts was slowly easing away, leaving the light thrum of anxiety and discomfort room to grow. 

It definitely wasn’t him. He was sweet and funny and super, super hot - did you mention he was hot? He just wasn’t ‘them.’ 

You steeled yourself, however, because you owed yourself this. You owed yourself a chance to move on, to experience someone else. Surely this feeling would dissipate once you, you know, got going. People did this stuff all the time, why couldn’t you? 

His apartment was nicer than you expected. Clean and bright, with cute little accents here and there that spoke of his colorful personality. It even smelled amazing, which seemed odd for a bachelor pad. Like citrus and vanilla. 

Hoseok knelt down and helped you out of your heels before standing up to take off his blazer. 

“You need a drink or anything?” 

You shake your head, wanting to get started before you can talk yourself out of it. He smirks, obviously thinking you’re just nervously eager for him. 

He walks up and cups your jaw, tilting your face up. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes as he moves closer. 

It’s a nice kiss. Slow and sensual, barely any tongue, and he strokes his thumb across your cheek the whole time. Any other person would feel excited and be touched with how sweet it was. It was like he was silently promising this wasn’t just sex for him. It only served to make you feel guiltier that you weren’t being totally honest with him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes seem a little dazed as he escorts you to his room. Again, nothing to complain about there. The room is nice and clean, smells good, has a few cute Snoopy stuff animals laying around. He’s gentle leading you in and maneuvering you to sit on the bed.  

His breath is shuddering as he slowly leans in to kiss your jaw and work his way down. You can feel a slight twinge of interest since your neck is one of your weak spots, but it dies down again once the expect bite never came. Yoongi was a biter and always left marks that you proudly wore, no matter how many people told you it was tacky. Your neck and chest were his favorite places to do it, so when Hoseok simply traveled around leaving light kisses and maybe a lick or two, you were nearly disappointed. Also slightly relieved because what if the boys saw a mark on you? You could nearly see Jimin’s eyes tearing up now. 

Hoseok inhales and moans, making you jump a little because you’d nearly forgotten about him you’d been so stuck in your own mind. His hand slowly slides down and up, reaching under your dress. His hands are nice enough, but they don’t have the expert feel of Yoongi’s fingers knowing your body like the back of his hand. Or even Jimin’s - thicker and earnest to learn and please. 

You cringe when he slips into your panties because you know he’s going to feel you’re as dry as a desert down there. 

Sure enough, he pauses and his shoulders slump. He slides his hand out and peeks up at you. You can tell he’s forcing himself to smile, but his eyes are soft with understanding. 

“I’m not doing it for you, am I?” 

You rush to explain. “Oh, God...it’s not you. It’s so not you. You are unbelievably hot and funny, just so sexy and I really wish I could get out of my head, but...”

“Yoongi and Jimin, right?” You nod and he sighs, sitting up on the bed next to you. “Jin hyung told me not to get my hopes up, but you are so pretty and sweet that I think I lost my head there a little bit.” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, turning to look down at the floor. 

“Nah, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel pressured or like you had to come here with me.” 

“No, of course not. I thought if I just tried I could...with you. You are amazing.” 

Hoseok sighs and smiles sadly, twisting your heart. If you were another you, not so stuck on ‘them’, you’d grab this man up in a heartbeat. 

He chuckles and helps you up. “Fine, but let them know if they fuck up again I’m coming for you.”

You blush and let him lead you out of the room. “Thank you, Hoseok. If it’s not too awkward, I’d like to be friends. Not like the bullshit line people say when they really don’t mean it, but really friends. You can hang out with us in the cafeteria at work on Monday if you want.” 

He looks surprised for a split second before the tension in his face melts and he smiles genuinely at you. 

“You know what? I might just take you up on that.” 

“Okay. Thanks, Hoseok. And I’m sorry, again.” 

“It’s all good. You can still stay the night if you want? I have an extra room and I promise no funny business unless you ask for it.” 

You giggle and slide into your heels. 

“No, thanks though. I’m gonna...” 

“Yeah,” he nods in understanding. “Be careful.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.” 

You escape to the elevator quickly, ordering a cab on your phone. When you’re done, you lean your head against the wall and sigh. Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re doing the right thing. Hoseok was incredible and had so much potential, but you’re you and you have to do what’s right for yourself. And given how much you can’t stop thinking of two certain people, your path is clear. 

*

The taxi pulls up to the familiar little house and you quickly slide out after paying and just stand there, looking at it. 

Home. 

It still looks the same. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it still looked like home. Yoongi still kept up the yard, though your flowers looked like they might be struggling a little bit. He’d forgotten to put his basketball away again since it was just sitting there in the driveway waiting to get run over. Jimin must have been sitting on the porch reading earlier because one of his mangas was on the wicker table. 

You take a few steps closer, amazed at how your chest felt lighter with each one. As soon as you walk up one of the stairs you can hear Holly at the door, scratching a little and whining. 

“Yah, you mongrel. What’s your problem? You too good for the doggy door in the back now?” 

You grin shakily as Yoongi’s complaining filters through the door. Once you’re close enough to hover your hand over the door you can hear Yoongi shuffling closer to the door. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your eyes filling up and you fight to contain yourself. You knock twice. 

Yoongi cracks open the door, his confused expression morphing into disbelief once he sees you. 

“Hi,” you say breathily. 

He gulps and quietly responds, “Hey.” Holly happily hops all over the place and does circles to try and get your attention. You smile at him then turn back to Yoongi. 

You both are quiet for a moment, looking each other over. His eyes roam over your outfit is wide-eyed wonder. 

Jimin wanders in fresh from the shower, running a towel over his head still. 

“Who is coming by this late?” 

You poke your head to the side and wave a little. 

“Hey, Jimin.” 

“Noona?” He smiles happily, rushing over to join Yoongi at the door. “You look incredible. What’s going on?” 

Yoongi already knows. You can see it in the way his shoulders have relaxed like someone just lifted the weight of the world off of them. A single tear travels down his cheek as he smiles softly at you. 

“We have to keep going to counseling. I’m not going to go back to the way things were. We are going to be better than that. We are going to communicate and talk everything through. If I’m the one not talking about something I should, call me out on it. This is going to be equal and no one is going to feel left out.” Yoongi nods enthusiastically and reaches out a hand that you eagerly grasp. 

Jimin gasps as he catches on. 

“Noona, you’re back?” 

“I’m all in. With both of you, if you still want me.” 

You hold your free hand out to him and his smile grows bright as he accepts it and tugs you inside the house before enveloping you in a hug. Yoongi shuts the door and takes Jimin’s place when the other pulls back. 

He cups your jaw and his face comes so close you can see his lip trembling with barely contained emotion. He sighs and lays his forehead against yours. 

“Welcome home, Princess.” 

Jimin wraps his arms around you both from the side, placing a quick peck on both of your cheeks. You blush and cuddle further into Yoongi’s hold, feeling right for the first time in a very long time. 

You know it’s not perfect yet and you all still have a lot to work on and figure out, but for now, this is perfect. 

Because home was ‘Them.’ 

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [3]

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

➜ Words: 3.5k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

➜ Warnings: Slowburn.....

Taehyung’s pouting. Again.   He’s staring at the way you peel back the plastic cover of your small cheese and crackers snack and he licks his lips before huffing again, shoulders slumping in their spot. He looks down to his chip bag, gets up from his spot and comes tottling over. “Hey.”   Silence. You continue watching the television and try to follow along with the story — it’s hard when you’re not used to watching. But Taehyung is unimpressed with you ignoring him again and he plops down in front of you, forcing you to look at him.    “Hey, I said!” He’s loud. “Pay attention to me! I was asking if you wanted to trade snacks!”   The seven year old haughtily shoves his bag of chips into your shoulder. “You can have these. If I get those cheese crackers of yours. I like them….”    You stare at Taehyung before looking down to the blue rectangular bag held in his tiny fists. Then your eyes stray to your cheese and crackers, the one snack you chose with your allowance.   He sighs. “Please. Pretty please?! Can I have them or not?!”   You hand them over.   He snatches your cheese and crackers with a triumphant smile, grinning from ear to ear as laughter fills the air. Taehyung drops his bag of chips into your lap as he leaps over the table and runs down the hall, his bedroom door slamming shut a second later. You’re alone in the living room. And as you peek into the chip bag he gave you…..   There’s nothing inside. Empty.   He already ate them all.

[Present Day]   Bam!   The man comes at you with a forefist, knuckles prepared to come into contact with your mouth, but on muscle memory alone, your body ducks. Your back turns slightly, your leg comes out at an angle and it’s brought back in a fluid spinning hook kick. Your foot collides with the side of his helmet and he’s too caught off guard to catch balance.   Seokjin allows himself to fall back onto the mats.    He laughs breathlessly, not in shame but because he’s impressed. “You’re still good, aren’t you, chickpea?”   Your arm extends, helping him get onto his feet again. A small smile decorates your lips. “You didn’t have to let me win. You know my feelings won’t get hurt.”   Seokjin shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and moving the sweaty strands away from his face. “I’m not letting you win, chickpea. You crushed me. Gave me a run for my money. Are you sure you’ve gotten out of shape? Or did you just use that excuse to demolish me?”   He grins and another smile, more genuine, tickles up your visage. “We should call it even then since you always won back when we were in the same class together.”   “Okay.” He drops a hand on top of your head, making you jolt from the sudden affection, but his arm returns to his side too soon before you can get used to it. “We’re even then. But I want a rematch, Miss Y/N. I’m not letting myself be beat by a black belt when I’m a black belt too. I have a name to live up to around here, y’know.”   The memory is fresh in your mind — every time Jin was able to kick you, hit you, pin you on the mat in front of other kids. While the tables have turned and you’re now able to beat him, the achievement isn’t pleasant.    Rather, you remember how humiliating it was. Not because Seokjin always claimed victories, but because of your father’s clear disappointed expression that came each time you fell, because you would’ve rather been wearing a dress and making chocolates to give to Jin, not trying to hit and kick him and beat him in a match. You wanted to be pretty, not sweaty and gross...and—   “That was so cool!”   There’s a shrill voice that interrupts your thoughts, coming from across the gymnasium.   Kim Taehyung is standing there with his eyes wide, baby blue bike rolled along by his side.   “Can you teach me?!” He leans his bike against the wall, throws his bag to the ground and comes running over, a grin spreading through his face. “How’d you do that?!”   Seokjin bows his head. “Mr. Kim.”   But Taehyung completely ignores him. His eyes are plastered on your face.    Before he can open his mouth and say something else, someone else comes running in, out of breath, blonde hair in disarray, sweat clinging to his forehead.   “Taehyung!” His eyes are full of fear, brows knitted together — you recognize him as Park Jimin, having read his file considering you were essentially taking his job.   The poor boy can barely keep up with Taehyung.   “I-I told you not to go without me!”   “If you can’t keep up with me on my bike then too bad.”   “I-uh…” Jimin glances at Seokjin who’s watching and then at you and then back at Taehyung.   The latter continues, “Plus, I just really wanted to see my new bodyguard. As soon as possible.” He smiles at you and your expression remains blank.   “You’ve gotten sloppy,” a familiar voice sounds near the main doors and you turn to find your dad. “You’re using too much force when you don’t need to. You’re wasting your own efforts.”   You nod. “I’ll work on it.”   Your father hums a low note and looks away from you. “Seokjin, come with me.”   “Yes, sir.” The dark-haired man flashes you a discreet smile as goodbye and he walks off the mats to grab his belongings.   “And you, go with Jimin. He’ll show you the ropes. You begin your assignment tomorrow.”   “Yes, sir.”   He walks out with Seokjin in tow and when they’re completely gone from sight, Taehyung lets out the breath he was holding. “Your dad’s still scary, huh?”   “Dad…?” Jimin’s eyes are comically large as he gawks at you. “You’re Chief’s daughter?”   You pick up your bag, walking past the two of them. “Didn’t you have things to show me?”   Taehyung grins, quickening his pace as he follows you out, practically with a skip in his step. Jimin, on the other hand, is more unprepared and is delayed, struggling to keep up as he runs.   “I don’t live at the Blue House,” Taehyung tells as all three of you cut through the grounds. “I have a place near here, but I visit a lot since this place is actually pretty nice….minus the actual people. Like my step-mom. She’s alright, but I’m not a fan. Personally.”   He’s gazing at your profile with a smile that fails to be repressed, eyes all too intense and endeared like a hyperactive child meeting his hero in the flesh. In the meanwhile, Jimin is still jogging to keep up.   “W-wait, can you guys slow down?”   “It’s not our fault that you’re slow, Chimothy. You gotta keep up! We don’t wait for anyone.”   You stop, feet halting on the grass. Finally, you look at Taehyung. “What time does your classes start tomorrow?”   “Nine a.m.” He grins. “But I like waking up earlier to grab breakfast, so you should be there hmmm….at least seven? Since I can’t go out by myself.”   “What?” Jimin’s inhaling and exhaling, finally caught up. “You don’t get out of bed until at least ten—”   “Chimothy, maybe you should just go. I got this.”   “W-what?”   Taehyung pats Jimin aggressively on the back, enough to leave him coughing and spluttering. “I can show Y/N around. Wouldn’t want to hold you up when I’m sure you have better things to do. I can handle it. Trust me.”   “B-but Chief told me to show Y/N around.”   “Don’t worry about it, okay? I won’t tell, you won’t tell, Y/N won’t either. It’s a secret between us, alright? I know you’re tired. Didn’t you say you haven’t been sleeping well?”   “Y-yeah…?”   “Well now’s a perfect opportunity. South wing, down the hall, take a left and then a right, there’s a secret spare bedroom and a mattress that has your name on it. Go for it!”   Jimin looks at Taehyung and then at you. He reads your blank expression as a sign of confirmation when in reality, you know that no matter what you say or do, there’s no going against Taehyung’s will.    After a beat, Jimin gives in, nods and slowly begins to walk backwards before turning around and walking towards the house. Through telepathy, he wishes you a tearful good luck, saluting you as a comrade about to go into battle.   You’re left alone with Taehyung.   “Now where was I? Right. Breakfast. So you better be there by seven in the morning. And I don’t go to bed until midnight. So I hope you’re prepared to spend at least seventeen hours with me every single day. And also—”   If there’s one thing that’s different from the Taehyung from years ago, it’s that he’s evolved. He doesn’t demand your attention or for you to say anything back. He doesn’t need you to speak at all.   //   Taehyung’s school is large, with different faces constantly leaving and entering campus. But rather than being impressed with the fancy institution, you’re staying alert with the potential threats that could come at any angle at any time.   “Usually I have class in those theatres. Just a heads up, it’s super boring. Like super. Won’t blame you if you fell asleep.”   “I’m taking political science cause dad wants me to go into government — it’s a good job or whatever with decent pension. But it makes me want to blow my brains out. I rather draw. Anyways, that building over there is—”   “You liked to colour.” You stop, interrupting but finally speaking for the first time since he began showing you the campus despite you already having memorized the map.   “Yeah.” His smile becomes sheepish, maybe even happy that you remembered the small detail. “But I don’t just colour.”   You nod before glancing at your watch. “Don’t you have Public Policy Analysis in Hall C in five minutes?”   “H-how did you know that?”   “I have your schedule.”   “Oh. Well it’s fine, I skip anyway. C’mon, let me show you where the dining hall is. They have the best hot chocolate and a buy one get one half off deal…”   But your feet stay rooted in the ground. “I insist that we go. It’s one of my responsibilities to make sure you attend all classes.”   Taehyung’s mouth opens and closes, brows furrowing and his lips pouting when he’s obviously not getting his way with you. “You’re worse than Chimothy. Listen, I don’t need to go. I’m doing fine without attending the stupid lecture—”   “Then I’d like to go.”   Your feet turn, walking away. His sigh is audibly heard, exhaling for the dramatics as his shoulders slump, exactly like a petulant child being dragged off to do chores.   “You’re going the wrong way. That’s the Social Sciences building.” With the new information, you do a hundred eighty turn, going towards the other building. A grin pulls on Taehyung’s mouth and he picks up the pace to join your side. “Not so good at memorizing maps, are you?”   You don’t respond.   Taehyung ends up sitting at the back of the class, the row he’s at and the one before it is completely empty. Maybe other students are aware that he’s the President’s son and they’ve steered clear, especially after witnessing a horde of bodyguards chasing him. Maybe it’s because he just has an overwhelming personality that’s difficult to handle. Or maybe it could be in the way you’re in a suit, hands clasped on the table, intense stare darted straight ahead at the projector screen that’s made everyone steer clear of Taehyung.   Either way, you make it perfectly clear that you’re his bodyguard and anyone who dares to attack him will meet your hands.   On the other hand, Taehyung doesn’t seem particularly disheartened that a class of three hundred have avoided him like the plague. Rather, he appears bored out of his mind as the professor drones on and on. His arm is propped on the table, chin in his hand, leaning over, and his head is turned to stare at you as if your face are the handles of the clock and he’s waiting for time to pass.   “Hey, Y/N…”   Silence.   Taehyung doesn’t force you to talk. Instead, he continues, “Think you can teach me how to kick and punch like that? It was...really hot. If you don’t want to teach me, maybe you can do it to me. What do you say? Hmm? Wanna kick my ass and step all over me? I welcome it completely.”   Silence.   He pokes your shoulder. “Y/N.”   More silence.   He does it again. “Y/N.”   Except this time, Taehyung is loud enough that the students two rows away turn around, frowning at the disturbance. In order to not draw any unnecessary attention, your neck cranes towards him. He smiles at how you’ve given in.   “No.”   Taehyung pouts. “You’re no fun. Still a goody-goody, huh?”   “Pay attention.”   “But this is so boring. I’d rather pay attention to you. At least you’re prettier than the professor.”   There’s no more comments made from you. Nothing is said and as usual, you let him do whatever he wants — he’ll get bored of you anyways. But you underestimate Taehyung.   For the entire hour, he stares at you with an infuriating smile. And when class is over, he’s still staring as the pair of you march across campus together. “You look good in a suit. But aren’t you hot in that?”   “No.”   “Well, you stick out like a sore thumb, Y/N. I wanted someone discreet, and not like I’m with an extra from James Bond or the Matrix.”   “This is the official uniform,” you tell him shortly.   He smiles to himself, glad that you’re saying more than one word to him. “Yeah, I know. By the way, are we actually going to another class of mine? Can we just stop for a second? Maybe you can teach me how to do that kick or throw that punch? I think that’s a much better way to spend our time.”   You stop, feet halting on the grass. Knowing him, he won’t let it go...ever. The easier way to deal with Taehyung is to appease him. So you bend your knees, halfheartedly, arms lifting to lightly punch the air. “There. Like that.”   An enormous grin spreads across his face. “Wait, wait. I have to bend my knees, okay. Elbows in….like this?” He tries it, but then quickly slumps in his spot, lips downturning.    “Not bad.”   He shakes his head. “You don’t have to compliment me. I know I’m not doing it right. It doesn’t feel right. How about you punch me.” Taehyung turns, patting his chest before you can say a hard ‘no’. “Do it. I only learn through real demonstration. You have my full consent. My full permission. Hit me. Pound me, Y/N. Please.”   You stare at him. He stares at you.   Your sigh is held in, released only internally and you prepare your stance, knees bent, arms up. As light as possible, you come at the middle of his chest with a forefist, knuckles smacking into the middle of the target. And Taehyung’s left to inhale a sharp breath, stumbling back on impact and wheezing.   You didn’t even hit that hard.    “G-Goddamn. Holy hell…..” He clutches his wound, bending over as he coughs a storm. The chance to apologize never comes. “That was so fucking hot!”   Taehyung is smitten. You’re disgusted.   “Can you do that again?! Please, Y/N?! I’m begging yo— hey! Where are you going? Don’t just walk away from me! Don’t you know that’s rude?”   You continue walking, quickening your pace. Taehyung’s teasing you and while you don’t particularly appreciate it, it’s especially hard to say anything when he’s so happy about it. Not a lot has changed since when you were both young.   “You know, you became pretty cool, Y/N. You’re not much of a cute twerp anymore. You have this whole cold, hardcore image going on. It’s mysterious. I admire that. Reminds me of your dad. Is that where you got your inspiration from?”   “You’re late for class.”   “I’m always late.” He shrugs. “Dumbo, maybe I should upgrade your name to bulldozer. You seem to just bulldoze ahead in life without stopping. Nothing affects you. Like a wall. I can appreciate that.” Taehyung’s arm moves to sling around your shoulder and you immediately jolt, not used to physical affection. It makes you hyper aware of his presence, but he notices and instantly drops his arm from you. “You alright?”   “I’m fine.”   “You’re cool, Y/N,” Taehyung says again, but more passingly, perhaps geared towards himself than praise meant to be heard.   You remind, “We’re late.”   “I know. But everyone’s always late. It’s fine, trust me.” Taehyung brushes it off. “Didn’t you ever go to university or college?”   “No. I went to the academy.”   “Academy?”   “Police academy.”    You went for six months before working as an officer for three years. While you’re relatively content with your decisions, you’re slightly curious about the university lifestyle you could never afford and what it would’ve been like had you went anyway. Although things so far don’t seem particularly impressive.   “Really?” Taehyung’s surprised, eyes wide on the news. “Did you fight crime or track down serial killers?”   “No.”   “Then what did you do?”   “Police stuff.”   “Like?”   “Patrolling the streets. Responding to calls.”   The man stares at you for an extended moment before smiling and nodding. “That’s so cool.” But there’s another curious question poking at the back of his brain. “Why’d you quit?”   “Is that the engineering building?” You point off, pace quickening once more. In the meanwhile, he continues to yap about how you always leave him behind, always ignore him when he’s speaking.   The next class of Taehyung’s is even more boring than the last one. In this one, he actually dozes off and when you nudge him awake, he whines. He tries to rest his head on your shoulder, but you move backwards, not allowing him to get close and he’s left to shake himself awake.   You try to pay attention too, to set a good example, but even you have to admit it’s rather dull.   The cycle repeats one more time before he’s done for the day and ready to head home. The simple idea of being able to leave has his eyes being brought back to life. Taehyung happily bounces his way to the bike rack outside the dining hall, grabbing his infamous, baby blue bike and jumping on without a helmet.    The metal rear seat is open and he waits for you to get on it.   “I won’t leave you behind,” he promises with a mischievous grin, telling you to hop on.   But your hand plops on the handles instead. “I’ll steer.”   “What?”   “You don’t have a helmet. It’s dangerous. And I can’t react if someone attacks us.”   Taehyung is left sputtering, absolutely baffled. “No one’s going to attack us—”   “Last I checked you almost got into an accident last time.”   He remembers the special encounter, when neither of you knew of each other and were merely passing strangers. A sly smile moves across Taehyung’s face. “But you saved me.”   “Your safety is my priority.” Your head moves, signalling for him to get to the back seat. You give in and appease him on a lot of matters, but this is the hill you choose to die on.   The pair of you stare down at each other.   It lasts thirty seconds.   Then Taehyung huffs out and gets off his precious bike seat, sitting on the back. Maybe he relented as an excuse to wrap his arms around your abdomen. The college boy ends up gripping you tight, leaning his head on your back and it’s uncomfortable, but bearable.   “How are you going to ride a bike in a suit?”   To answer his question, you start pedalling and it works, even in spite of being in restrictive attire.   “You should wear normal clothes,” he tells you in a murmur and above the warm breeze, you hear him perfectly well. “It’s not like I don’t like you in a suit, how can I when you look so hot, but I want you to blend in with me. I just….want us to be normal. Can’t you wear a cute skirt or dress or something?”   “Cute things don’t match me.”   “That’s not true,” Taehyung says. “You’ve always been cute. Even now.”   Nothing is spoken out of your mouth. Instead, you focus on pedalling across campus as he holds onto you. It might be a comical sight, but you don’t care. You remain cold, distant, professional. Awake and always alert.   This is your job now.

[jinjikook]

Play With Me (M)

word count: 3.7k (i really tried to limit myself)

genre: smut; idol-verse + established relationship

pairing: reader/jooheon

summary: built up tensions from not seeing your idol boyfriend, jooheon, lead you two to have quite the steamy session on the couch. good thing jooheon has nice thighs and dirty mouth.

requested by: anon #1 who who asked for the reader to have a thigh kink & anon #2 who just wanted some good ‘ol joohoney smut; thank you for requesting! ♡

masterlist

Tonight was wild, in more ways than one.

To begin, it’d been a good year since you started dating Jooheon, in secret of course. As he was an idol (an up and coming one at that) who had an image to protect and he didn’t want anything happening to you because of saesang fans. You two had been friends before he debuted, having gone to school together and essentially dealing with the worsts of puberty together. So it honestly surprised no one when you finally got together with him; you’d seen each other at your individual worsts and bests already and still stuck around so you two found it comfortable to start dating. It wasn’t like much changed, except now you held hands when you watched movies or kissed each other goodbye at the end of days together.

Intimacy was difficult when it came time for it, not because you two weren’t attracted to each other or anything; it was just so damn hard to do anything remotely intimate in a cramped dorm with 6 other guys around. You’d been walked in on one too many times, either hearing a rushed “fuck sorry!” followed by the door slamming or with wolf whistles and claps while a new spectator joined your little fun.

(The latter was usually Minhyuk or Changkyun; those two were menaces when it came to your sex life.)

This time it’d been enough, you hadn’t seen Jooheon in over two weeks because of Fighter promotions and you hated it. Sure, you only wanted the best for your boyfriend and his group, but you also missed him dearly. Seeing him off your phone screen was entirely different than being with him in person. You missed his warm embrace and sweet dimples and oft eyes that made your heart simultaneously melt and race to a million beats per second.

You not only missed being around him and talking to him face-to-face, but you also missed the other benefits of dating. Like his lingering touches or the way he kisses your neck all the way to your collarbones when he wants you bad. It was torture to have to be celibate for so long, choosing very little times to pleasure yourself when he wasn’t around because it was just never the same. Nothing made you feel as good as Jooheon, not even the best sex toys money could buy. Call you sentimental, but you like the deep-set connection the two of you have; you think it makes sex that much better.

So when he finally caught a break after what felt like ages, you frantically called him and asked when was a good time to see each other. He missed you immensely as well so plans were made as soon as humanly possible, choosing to meet at the dorm in roughly an hour. You spent plenty of time getting yourself washed up and looking good for him, even opting to wear a pretty dress with a sexy set of black lace lingerie underneath. Jooheon never admitted it out loud, but he loved two things on you: black and lace. The two together were a deadly combination, a surefire way to get him in bed tonight.

Arriving at the dorm and punching in the entry code as discreetly as possible, you knocked at their door and waited on your heels, wondering if you looked alright. It was only a few seconds before the door was ripped open and you found Minhyuk on the other side, smiling widely at you.

He greeted you warmly and complimented your dress, giving you a wink as if he knew of your true intentions tonight. You tried to brush it off casually, simply wanting to look nice after so much time has passed. He still smirked at you, turning only to yell loudly to announce your arrival.

You were greeted instantly with shouts, the boys stampeding their way towards you. Changkyun got to you first, bringing you in for a bear hug. Wonho excitedly followed suit, asking you how you’d been and if you’d been taking care of yourself. He was always so attentive to you, it was sweet. Then Hyungwon lingered on a hug with you, taking a moment to compliment your outfit and hair, saying you looked even better than the last time he’d seen you. Shownu softly greeted you and hugged you warmly, a usual greeting for the more reserved man. Kihyun gave you a hug and a small punch to the shoulder, asking why you hadn’t stayed in as much contact with him these past few weeks.

Kihyun was probably one of the closest members to you, obviously other than Jooheon. You think it’s both of your sarcastic natures; they’d usually collide and cause issues between two people but it oddly brought the two of you closer, constantly at each other’s throats but only with care in mind. There was never any malice behind the insults and snarky remarks you’d throw at each other. In the end, it made being at the dorm more welcoming than you’d have ever thought.

You spoke with the others, asking eager questions about their comeback and answering their own ones about what you’d been up to lately.

“Jooheon! Get your ass out here, you’re leaving a very pretty girl waiting!” Minhyuk scared you with a yell, making the others around you snicker.

“If you don’t come out here in the next few seconds, I’ll claim her hyung!” Changkyun spoke up, giving you a smirk and wink that you could only classify as ‘ultra cheesy’. You laughed at the boys, loving their excitable personalities. Not a moment later, Jooheon stepped out in a pair of ripped jeans and tight black shirt that hugged his slowly chiseling physique.

You had to be honest, you’d given Jooheon shit for wanting to diet. Time and time again you told him he was perfectly fine the way he was, that he didn’t need to do anything extreme or needed to change his body. His body literally was normal, no reason to have to starve himself so you always tried to make sure he ate well and took care of himself. But recently you knew that Shownu and Wonho had begun accompanying him to the gym; he told you it was simply for him to get in shape, nothing more. You had your suspicions but after being reassured by the others, you realized he simply wanted to take a healthier lifestyle which required going to the gym more often than he used to. As long as he still took good care of himself, you didn’t mind him going.

But now that you see him in such tight clothes, it made something inside of you stir with something akin to a burning heat, a hot coil tightening in your stomach and heating up your very core.  He wasn’t some built body builder, certainly not a walking mass of muscles. (Not like you liked that anyways, it always grossed you out for some reason. There was such a thing as too many muscles.) But he was clean cut, his arms growing in size with more definition around his biceps and triceps. He’d clearly been taking Wonho’s workout regime if his arms were anything to go by.

But what really got your attention were his thighs. They were being hugged so damn well by his deliciously tight jeans and it made your mouth water to see the muscles clearly marked through the denim. You swore you didn’t have a thing for thighs but you constantly found your eyes glued to Jooheon’s, along with other idol’s.

(Never would you admit to your boyfriend how much you really loved to see the thighs of Jeon Jeongguk, Park Jimin, Jackson Wang and Choi Seungcheol. It’d make him go mad in frenzy of jealousy.)

“Baby! I’m so glad you could come, I missed you so much!” Jooheon approached you with open (and ripped) arms and hugged you tightly, pulling back to kiss you on the cheek. He tried to discreetly check you out, eyes trailing over your beautiful body. You caught his eyes roaming and tried to convey a sense of sexiness with your eyes, hoping he’d get the message.

“Well! We’d love to stick around and mingle but Changkyunnie and I were gonna go play some video games and I think the others have things to do, right?” The boys all nodded and dispersed at Minhyuk’s words, saying how nice it was to see you again. Soon it was just you and Jooheon in the privacy of the living room. You had a little bit of small talk, mostly catching up on how Jooheon was doing and making sure he was still staying healthy. You could hear the boys engaging in their usual roughhousing that came along with playing video games, chuckling at how normal they were despite being internationally known idols.

“Love, you look gorgeous by the way, I don’t think I said that.” Jooheon looked over your figure once more, wishing his pants had a little more give in them. He tried to subtly adjust himself in the constricting pair of jeans but all it did was make you pay more attention to his loins, wanting nothing more than to take a solid bite into their plush flesh. The denim left nothing to your imagination as the fabric hugged taut against the straining muscles.

Jooheon let out a low chuckle, eyes much darker than before and glimmering with mischief. “I can see you’re thinking about me in the same way, my eyes are up here, honey.” His voice was laced with deep-set arousal, the sexual tension doubling in thickness as soon as it was brought to light. It had been too long, longer than you two had gone without so much as a round of phone sex. It was literally driving you mad, no doubt Jooheon feeling the same way or worse—constantly under pounding amounts of stress and work, he needed the relief more than anyone else.

Suddenly the air was too thick for you, snaking its way down your throat and choking you. It was stifling, the surface of your skin becoming clammy and feverish, in a way you knew only Jooheon could remedy. He sensed your aching need and reached for your hand, leading you over to the couch. You mindlessly followed, eyes still glued to the gorgeous muscles of his limbs. He looked back and smiled at your clear intentions and he thought he should treat his good girl well tonight.

Jooheon sat deftly on the couch, the cushions sinking with his weight. While you were about to seat yourself next to him, a pair of hands brought you down swiftly into Jooheon’s lap. You were caught off guard, not expecting for Jooheon to not only be so bold but also so strong. Your hands unconsciously landed at his biceps, feeling the defined muscles under the pads of your fingers. The small circular patterns you mindlessly drew brought shivers to Jooheon’s skin and he growled against you. The sound alone made the fabric of your lace underwear stick to you, the present arousal soaking through the flimsy fabric.

Jooheon sat you over the meat of his thigh, making you straddle one of his thick legs. Out of bare instinct, your ground yourself onto the denim-clad muscle and whimpered at the sweet pressure to put on your clit. This wouldn’t last long, you were on edge for too long now and you’ve been needing a proper release for weeks now. Jooheon seemed to sense this and let his hand hike your dress up over your hips, taking note of the choice of lingerie you had on tonight.

“Perfect, is this all for me?” He asked, fingertips grazing the flesh of your hip and trailing over to the front of your panties, stopping short of where you needed him the most. Unconsciously you still continued to circle your hips against him, needing the friction more than anything else. Biting down on your lip to muffle any noises, a particularly loud sound from one of the adjacent rooms brought you to your senses and out of the lust-driven stupor Jooheon put you in.

“Jooheon wait, the others could hear. Or worse, we could have a repeat of last time.” You shuddered at poor Shownu coming into the bathroom, a mistake on your part for forgetting to lock the door. You’re still so sorry for traumatizing him and making him see someone who he considered like a sister down on her knees with a mouth full of his band mate. It horrified you to this day, worry crossing every feature on your face anytime you had made eye contact with Shownu. It’s one thing to be an exhibitionist; it’s another to taint your friend’s minds.

You tried to reason with him but his grip never faltered, one hand tight against your hip to keep you down on him while the other teased along the very surface of your clit, feather light touches skimming the sensitive bundle of nerves. The barest bit of contact made you lurch, not realizing just how desperate you were.

Finger coming down in harder motions, he assaulted your clit while keeping his eyes glued on your body as it writhed against him, no doubt soaking the fabric of his jeans.

“Damn baby girl that it, ride my thigh. I see how you look at them, it’s pretty hot. Who cares if they see, my baby girl is so good she deserves an audience.” Jooheon praised you as he continued to stroke along your clothed folds, fingers pulling away with a light sheen of your juices staining them. Following his digits, you watched as he took them into his mouth, sucking away the flavor of you off of them. He pulled them out with a pop and chased the taste over his lips with his tongue, smirking at your desperate expression.

Both of his hands returned to your hips and he urged you to continue your movements, slick and suave against him. You surrendered to the pleasure, giving in to the sinful sensations that sent shockwaves that wracked your system. It was everything Jooheon loved to see: you truly enjoying yourself with everything he had to offer all while he had a front row seat. He vaguely wondered what he’d done in another life to deserve someone like you in his life to make his days bright and nights busy.

You gripped at his shoulders, clawing mindlessly as a particularly rough grind stimulated the bundle of nerves and made your insides start to fuzz up; imminent orgasm quickly approaching and ready to rear its head.

“Let go angel, come for me.” Jooheon’s sweet voice tickled along the shell of your ear coupled with his hot breath ghosting over your skin. Finally reaching your high, your tremors broke and you muffled your half-screams in Jooheon’s neck, hoping it’d suffice because you couldn’t hold back any more. Your hips had a mind of their own as they continued to rub back and forth against your boyfriend’s now sticky wet thigh. His jeans were soaked from your release, seeping deep past the denim and going as far as his briefs underneath. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you still registered the small jerks of Jooheon underneath you through your post-orgasmic haze. You let your core receive its last few fleeting brushes before finally submitting to having to get up.

Jooheon whined, not wanting to lose contact with you just yet but then you dropped to your knees in front of him and he shut his open mouth. Seductively gazing from your new position, you let your hands rest at his knees before trailing up slowly. You caught your hands along his chiseled thighs, appreciating the obvious difference in the two; one was dark and sticky with your come while the other was tense and dry. You wondered if they had a mind of their own, would that one be jealous of the one that got to be wedged tight against you?

Finally getting a grip on his dark belt, you quickly made work of the buckle. Jooheon couldn’t hide his excitement, his cock visibly twitching in his jeans from the tantalizing teasing already. You dragged down his zipper maddeningly slow, watching his every move as he reacted to your change of pace. His Adam’s apple bobbed with every dry and desperate gulp he took, trying to simultaneously take in air to his parched lungs all while keeping his tongue from lodging itself into his throat from how heavy and full it felt.  His breathing took a toll, heavy pants and gasps were all he could manage as you finally reached inside his underwear to tug his achingly hard member from its confines. He sighed a much needed breath of relief, free of the denim that began to be more of a prison than anything else.

Figuring he deserved to be treated as well as Jooheon had done with you, no moment was spared as you began lapping at the drooling tip of his length. The action surprised Jooheon and he couldn’t hold back the loud curse the left his bitten-red lips. You pulled away only to place your index finger over your mouth, silently signaling Jooheon to keep quiet. He nodded in understanding as his words weren’t the most trustworthy source of communication at the moment.

One shuddering breath later and you have Jooheon’s cock deep in your mouth, tongue working the hard muscles in vigorous circles. His hand rested at the back of your head while his own was thrown back against the back of the couch. He tried his best to keep his noises at bay but every now and again a groan or whimper would escape and you’d have to pull off to remind him once again. His fingers were threaded in your hair, a gentle but firm guide as you let him put your mouth where he needed it the most.

Nose nestled at the base of his length, you swallowed around his swollen tip and reveled in how the feeling made Jooheon’s thighs firm up under your palms. His robust flavor erupted on your tongue at yet another spurt of pre-come dribbled down his tip and into your mouth. He was getting closer to the edge and you could tell. So you slowly pulled off and placed a gentle grip at the base of his cock. Jooheon keened at the loss of warmth around him, the sudden coolness of the air conditioning making the saliva that coated his length become a shiver-inducing temperature.

You let your eyes meet his—reassuring his faith in you as you silently promised to make him feel good—and began to jerk him off in swift, solid stokes. Every tug made Jooheon shake in your hold, the stimulation becoming something fierce that stoked the burning flame in the pit of his stomach. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, bringing his tip to hover right over the pink of it and you twisted your wrist just right. It triggered Jooheon to come, the uptick of your stroke landing directly at the sensitive part under the head of his cock.

He came in thick ropes, the majority of it landing your outstretched tongue and coating it in white. A few stray droplets spattered on the high of your cheekbones and around your swollen lips. Jooheon gazed in awe as a sense of predatory pride overtook him in the sight of his physical claim on you. Watching you show off your catch before making a scene and swallowing it down made his cock twitch, wishing it could come back for another round much sooner just so he could pound you into the sofa for being so damn sexy.

You felt around for the little bits of come around your face, taking each individual digit into your mouth anytime they’d return with his release on the pads of them. Jooheon finally let his eyelids shut, needing a break from the maddening teasing. You giggled at his reaction, slowly (and very gently as to avoid his overstimulation) tucking him back into his jeans before standing up.

Groaning at the feeling, you rubbed at the soreness that settled in the joints of your knees. Jooheon perked up at the sound and took his turn to laugh, chuckling and motioning for you to seat yourself on his lap.

“I’ll be sure to give your knees a break next time, baby girl.”

You smugly smiled at him as your fingers toyed with his, becoming intertwined as you two began your usual after-sex cuddling and coddling.

“Is that a promise?”

You two shared a laugh before stopping when a door opened only to reveal Minhyuk with his large palm cupping tightly over his eyes.

“Is it safe to come out yet?” He asked, not even waiting for an answer before separating his digits and peeking through the gap between them. Smiling mischievously, he waggled his eyebrows at your position. He practically purred, “Oh, what do we have here? I knew I heard something suspicious but this is juicy.” Kihyun followed out after Minhyuk, beginning to gripe over how the couch was going to stink like sex now and Hyungwon poked his drowsy head out.

“Shut up Kihyun, it’s not like you’d know what sex smells like anyways.” Everyone shared a laugh over Hyungwon’s sassy remark except for Kihyun who immediately turned on his heel to give Hyungwon a good hit. You watched as Hyungwon screamed and bolted back into the room at the sight of a short but still very menacing man coming at him with a hand raised.

If only more of your days could end like this, it’d be heaven. But tomorrow was another day of rehearsals and promotions. You’d no doubt wouldn’t see Jooheon or the rest of them for a few days at minimum and as much as the thought pained you, you were happy to have at least one night to share with them.

You’d make plans to see them as soon as possible after everything is done, wanting to have a proper night alone with Jooheon and toy with the idea of his thighs another time.

[yoongink]

nuance.

Introduction: you and yoongi learn a thing or two about one another. Method: the real mvp is anon, thank u for kicking my muse in the butt. Result: 2k words, rated T. Conclusion: park jimin is an angel. min yoongi is okay, i guess.

Jimin’s stitches come out beautifully, one by one, and he doesn’t complain, doesn’t so much as flinch even. He’s better rested this evening, returning to his cheerful and cheeky self, and you don’t feel quite as exhausted as you normally would. It’s as if the fog has lifted and you can finally breathe crisp, fresh air again. The turmoil in your head is now a muted mess that you, for once in a very long time, feel equipped to deal with.

Now that you’re both relieved of your obscure burdens, the atmosphere of your visits has taken on a new tone; one of relief and anticipation, of falling into old habits as well as new beginnings.

“Remember the first time?”

You glance towards Yoongi, who's slumped in the armchair, mouth a slack pout, features soft with sleep, before returning your attention to your patient and his question. Jimin sits in front of you on the table, and you realise you’ve inadvertently recreated the scene of your very first meeting.

“I do.” It also occurs to you exactly how cavalier you’ve gotten with your makeshift medical practice in such a short amount of time, removing Jimin’s stitches at what is essentially their dining table.

“I bet you never thought you’d be one of us,” he says conversationally, well-meaning, no idea he is feeding your troublesome thoughts.

One of us.

You laugh bitterly at the sheer absurdity of the notion, unable to look Jimin in the eye for fear of your disappointment showing; this was indeed a far cry from anything you had ever envisioned for yourself. Similarly, you refuse yourself another glance towards Yoongi, afraid he’ll extinguish what little hope the simple claim has ignited in you.

This is the same conflict that has preoccupied you all week. The only people actively showing concern for your well-being are the very same people you should be avoiding, a yet there’s no use denying the kindness they’ve shown you, nor the positive impact they’ve made on your life. In and of itself, that is a sentiment you struggle with. Given your history it should be impossible, but you have no doubts you would have unraveled completely if not for Yoongi’s intervention last week. And all because a stain of Jimin’s blood had upset you.

Each time you go over these interactions in your head, acquainting yourself with the idea that this might be your new normal, it resembles friendship more and more. Not necessarily a kind you wanted, and yet a kind you sorely need.

“Oh, sorry,” Jimin, not as clueless as you once thought, deflates as he arrives at his own realisation. Fiddling with the shirt in his lap, a deep furrow works its way between his brows, his lips pursed to combat a pout. “I guess that’s not really a good thing, huh.”

“No, don’t—” you blink up at him, puzzled by your immediate impulse to contradict him, to comfort him. “Don’t say that.”

Jimin tilts his head at you and watches in silence as you sort through the words in your head, listens patiently when they begin to spill from your lips in segmented sentences.

“It’s not so bad.” All those years of school, the only thing that held you together was the promise that your work would give you purpose, that it would be fulfilling, when in fact it was anything but, and it left you feeling cheated and beaten. You sacrificed all the comforts you had known only to be miserable, with nothing to show for it. “I wasn’t… happy, anyway.”

Jimin watches on with an expression that makes your chest feel tight and heavy, and there’s no doubt in your mind that Yoongi is listening from the other end of the table. Unable to face either one of them you turn your attention away, across the room.

“The work I do is…” Unforgiving, devastating, soul-crushing. “Hard. It takes its toll, I guess, and I was… Well, I was lonely.” You take a deep breath, a moment to taste the words that well to your tongue before you let them slip, because can it really be that simple? All your objections, all your conflicting ideas, all your better judgement swept away by a single piece of damning evidence: “And now, I guess I’m not.”

It’s by no means a revelation, but it might as well be the way the truth seems to echo.

You had entered into this agreement willingly, with your eyes wide open, and you had made your choices for many reasons, but one truth remained no matter how much the circumstances changed: you were happier with the Bangtan boys than you had ever hoped to be again.

Swallowing this alarming realisation, you’re torn from your introspection once again to find Jimin’s hand resting on the top of your head. And, if not for the comforting weight of it, you may have burst into tears when you look up to see him smiling like you’ve just told him the best news he’s heard in months. Before you can get a real grip of yourself, laugh to undermine the weight of your admission and brush him off, Jimin has leaned in, embracing you carefully, pulling you close and pressing your flushed cheek against his naked shoulder, so he can rest his own against the side of your head.

Meanwhile, Yoongi hasn’t moved. Jimin unintentionally turned you to face him but he remains expressionless apart from the very slight crease to his brow, just enough of an indentation to make the simple act of blinking look pensive, as he meets your tearful gaze.

Later, as you pack up your things and bid Jimin a somewhat timid farewell, Yoongi pulls up his hood and stands waiting at the door, holding it open as you approach.

“Is this a thing now?” You ask, passing and waiting for him to join you outside. “You escorting me home like this?”

You don’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered that Yoongi worries about you getting home safely, and that he would take that responsibility upon himself without so much as asking, so you settle for an uneasy mixture of the two. Mostly you just feel bad because it’s too cold outside to make walking you home seem even remotely convenient.

“Maybe I have somewhere to be,” he counters with a noncommittal shrug, voice a gritty drawl that suggests he may have been sleeping earlier after all. “Maybe you’re the one escorting me, in case someone tries to fucking kill me again.” The thought alone makes you cringe inwardly, but Yoongi punctuates the sentence with a chuckle, shaking his head.

You hesitate, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“No.”

“So is someone gonna try to kill you again?”

An uneasy silence follows, and you quickly catch up with your actions and Yoongi’s corresponding frown, realise you’ve once again broken the cardinal rule upon which you’ve based all of your more civil interactions.

“I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to be asking—”

“— No.” Yoongi interjects abruptly, avoiding your startled gaze as he clarifies, “He left town, maybe even the country.”

“Wait,” you stammer, catching ahold of his sleeve to confront him with this new information, caution and informal agreement discarded as you struggle to comprehend what the world must look like through Min Yoongi’s eyes. ”You know who did this to you?”

“Hey, how long do you think my list of mortal enemies is? You think I don’t know who wants me dead?” He laughs, and the sound only serves your further bafflement.

“I mean, how am I supposed to know?” You sniff as your nose begins to run slightly from the cold, letting go of his sleeve as you near the end of the pavement and he turns to face you while he waits for the lights to change, even if these particular streets are all but abandoned so late on a Sunday.

“Your nose look kinda red,” he muses, with that familiar repressed twist to his mouth. He doesn’t ask whether in fact you’re cold, just takes in your huddled form for a moment before reaching out to tug a little on one end of your scarf, pulling it snug around your neck and chin. “What are we supposed to do if our doctor gets a cold, hm? Not get into fights? Not fall through windows and off of buildings?”

You hardly recognise the strained hiccup of laughter that leaves you in response, “I guess?”

A part of you suspects he’s only diverting your attention from the subject, but a deeply buried suspicion squirms to life with the less cynical suggestion that he may have other motives beyond manipulating you. Because, you reason, had the two of you been anyone else, meeting under entirely different circumstances, you wouldn’t have been completely amiss if you speculated that maybe, just maybe, he liked you. Would you?

Trying to make sense of this, your frantic thoughts scatter and scurry in an attempt to view his actions independent of circumstance and personal history, but you find you’re too tangled in the moment to see anything else clearly. You’ve become so used to witnessing Yoongi’s irregular displays of affection that you can’t picture his fond scowl on anyone else, and you feel your insides warm and twist sickeningly at the possibility that in some alternative reality far, far away from the universe you inhabit, to an uninitiated bystander you and Yoongi may even look like a couple.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he sighs, your scarf slipping through his fingers. “It’s, uh… It’s a pretty long list actually.” He sounds bitter, words needing a little extra force to get past his tense jaw and clenched teeth. “But it’s not what you think, most of them are in prison because of me.”

You hadn’t even noticed the light turn green when he starts crossing the street. Instead it occurs to you once more how little you know about Yoongi, about the rest of the boys, and that this is your first real chance to learn something, to seek the truth about them even if that was something you can never return from.

“Oh?” Your voice shakes as you fail miserably at sounding casual. “How so?”

“I betrayed some bad people,” he too, is trying to sound matter of fact about the issue, but the word ‘betrayed’ hangs heavy in the air between you, the obvious connotation being that he is one of the bad people himself. “For the sake of the boys, and what we have now. I betrayed some bad people so we could take their place, and now they would like to see me die for it.”

You don’t even feel your jaw drop.

At the hospital’s briefings covering gang violence, and even from the estate agent that showed you your current home, you’d heard many things about the past of this area, about the drug problems and the trafficking and the kind of crimes that would occur, about how things were turned right around after the gangs had been dismantled and prosecuted, about how things were now better than ever. You even remember it mentioned on the news back home.

All this time, you had assumed Yoongi was part of whatever little criminal activity remained, just some thug in a lowly street gang. You never thought to imagine him responsible for the fall of an empire, but isn’t that exactly what he’s implying?

“It’s funny,” he laughs, without a shred of mirth. “I ruined myself, you know? I can never amount to anything, in your world or my own. No one will even deal with us if they know I’m involved, it’s like I’m untouchable, and yet… It’s the only good thing I ever did.”

Stunned at his admission, somehow all you can think of is how this doesn’t correspond with how your inquiry started, as if that one missing piece would somehow make sense of it all. “But, then who…?”

“Someone’s brother.” Yoongi explains dismissively. “He had his chance and he ran, and that’s the end of it.”

“Oh,” you breathe. “Okay… Good.” You don’t notice Yoongi's lingering look of surprise, too busy ruminating over everything you’ve just learned.

While trying to fit the newly acquired pieces of information with the rest of your puzzle, you spend the rest of your walk home in silence. Yours is contemplative, while his is of a more wistful nature. You don’t realise this however, until you arrive at your block of flats, and turn to find Yoongi unable to face you directly, a distinct look of remorse on his features, a look reminiscent of one such other time he said too much and ultimately disgraced himself.

“I guess,” he mutters, “you’ll hear from us next time we need you.”

“Yoongi—” You call out to him just as he turns to leave, belatedly recognising your complete failure to provide assurance that you don’t despise him for the same reasons that everyone else does. That you feel not only differently, but quite the opposite. That you believe he made the right choice. That you were wrong about him.

“Yeah?” He looks back, and you immediately lose your nerve.

“Uh, hurry home, okay? Don’t catch a cold, because I’m, uh, not that kind of doctor.”

Yoongi nods swiftly to indicate his understanding, and carries on walking without another word.

You watch his hooded figure withdraw for another few moments, part of you wishing you had followed your initial impulse to invite him in for coffee, while the more rational side of you is relieved that you didn’t.

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