#bts poly relationship

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the habits

— summary: you are a weapon and weapons do not weep

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 6.4k

— warnings: physical abuse, violence, mentally unstable mindset

— PART 25 / previous post / masterpost

One.

Two.

Three.

The seconds will pass. The minutes will fly. The hours will go.

You’re alright.

Endure it. Endure it.

It will pass.

Everything will pass just as everything has always passed.

In time, father will raise his hand to indicate them to stop. A stop signal. He may leave the room out of boredom but he will return just as he always does in order to demand them to leave you alone. He will never be satisfied but there is always a limit to everything and father sometimes gets too bored to keep seeing it, to keep hearing it, so he’s always there to stop it.

Eventually.

Eventually.

You just have to endure it for now until the signal comes, until—

“What are you doing?!”

You didn’t realize it and perhaps that’s because you blacked out, your mind keeping you from feeling it all completely, trying to protect you, but you’re sitting on the ground when a call demands out an answer in a loud, commanding voice, and a rushing of a pair of feet running over to push Karl off you.

Asher punches Karl right in the face, throwing him off you, before demanding the guards he has with him to hold the man back.

“She provoked me!” Karl argues like a child in a kid’s play.

He’s never been abruptly stopped before. Always angry, never satisfied.

Nothing is ever enough when it comes to the two of them. 

Karl landing hurt through his fists and weapons and anything he can get a hand on. Your father landing hurt through his commands, watching and watching and watching.

And you, their victim, who has to stay down and accept it all until there is a small amount of satisfaction that calls at them to stop.

You always wait on that call, no matter how much endurance it takes.

“That doesn’t make it right to lay your hand on a woman!” Asher retorts with anger laced in his tone, and this anger, despite how different it is from that of Karl’s, still shakes you violently though you keep as still as ever, paralyzed.

Paralyzed.

Even when the anger does not fall on you, even when he does not turn to you but towards the companion who stands behind you, who had stood still this whole time. “And what are you doing? Your boss was getting hit and you just stood there?”

Yeonjun, with a snap on cue, kneels over to your side and looks down at you with widened eyes and a frozen expression. He doesn’t touch you right away, cautious, but you see what those eyes mean, you know exactly what that expression is telling you.

That he, too, had reverted back to the past.

When your father still lived, when he had to stand by and watch everything without moving a muscle.

He reverted back just as you had.

Two little kids, who're still affected by the traumas of the past.

Two little kids.

You take Yeonjun’s hand, giving him the permission to touch you, so he helps you back onto your feet and the two of you remain in silence as you walk off with his help, not daring to look Karl in the eyes, not caring to reply to Asher.

But you feel yourself trembling with the presence of a pair of eyes boring right into your back. Not from Asher or Karl or the two guards but from someone else.

The ghost of him.

Of that man.

That man named father.

.

.

.

“Y/N?” There’s concern in Jungkook’s voice when you walk into the room and you guess that’s probably because of the state you’re in, but right now you can’t entertain him so you simply hold a hand up, asking him to stay back, and Jungkook, though worried, leaves the room on your behalf.

When you’re left alone with Yeonjun, you let your legs give in to sit on the floor rather than finding a chair or taking a seat on the bed.

The floor is comfortable. It’s always been more comfortable.

The boy takes your heels off, along with your jacket, and despite the sting of the pain that aches over your body, the only thing on your mind is the fact that you let it happen so easily, that you allowed yourself to walk back into that state of being an obedient and perfect little doll.

You reverted back to the damages just when you thought after father’s death, you wouldn’t let anyone walk over you anymore.

But it isn’t easy.

It isn’t easy.

And it will never be easy.

Father still lives in your head rent free and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much time has passed, nothing will change. It’s already been a little over a year since his death but he’s still here, still thriving, mocking you, taunting you, controlling everything that you are.

You’re shaking, trembling, not just out of fear but out of anger. Angry at yourself. For being so weak, for reverting back, for thinking things could get better.

And with Yeonjun the only one here with you at the moment, you lean into his touch and let yourself into his arms to allow the sort of warmth only your Reapers can provide you.

Yeonjun’s heartbeat won’t be the same as Mingyu’s, it’s probably even beating rapidly right now, so you don’t let your ear rest against his chest and instead wrap your arms over his neck and climb into his lap to lay your cheek against his shoulder.

Yeonjun brings his hand over to rub down your back but he’s a little awkward and unsure because he’s never really had to do this; comforting you. It’s always been Mingyu, and if Mingyu wasn’t there, it’d be Yuna, and if Yuna couldn’t do it, it’d be Dasom, or someone else.

Anyone else.

He’s only a kid after all, just eighteen years old, the youngest of your Reapers, but because no one else is here, he does his best to pick up the role that’s been given unto him.

Yet you feel him tremble slightly himself and you guess that in some way, he must be afraid as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I didn’t…I…”

You know what he’s trying to say, that he failed you, that he couldn’t protect you. But can you really blame him? Because just as you’ve been trained to endure through the pains and take everything that’s given unto you, Yeonjun, the Reapers, were trained to stand by and watch.

Habits are scary.

Frightening.

And because you don’t know how to console him and he doesn’t know how to console you, the two of you remain in silence simply holding onto one another.

Just two little kids having to rely on each other.

Just two little kids.

And after a little while, when things have settled a little more, when he starts shaking a little less, Yeonjun gathers himself and forces himself out of the state he’s in.

He stands up and you watch him leave for a second, not too long, because he rushes, and returns with materials in hand to begin tending to you. It remains as quiet as ever between the two of you, but you see the way his brows furrow in concentration and he stops himself from staying in the mindset of a teenager.

Of a child.

He becomes an adult, a reliable adult. For you. Applying what’s needed on the bruises that have swelled up, wrapping your arm with bandages, and when you frown with disgust at the sight of the white wrapping on you, wanting it off, complaining, he doesn’t fall into your trap and stands his ground just as he’s seen Mingyu do plenty of times.

Yeonjun gets frightened of you at times but he always listens to your every command and does all that you ask him within a heartbeat, but today he grows a pair of wings and knocks you lightly on the head with his knuckles when you try to push him away, when you get stubborn with him.

“Do you want to die?” You glare at him but he doesn’t give in.

“You can kill me after I treat you,” he says and continues his ministrations.

“I hate it,” you tell him. “I don’t like it, this…this white.” You try to scratch at yourself but he grabs your hand before you can and your face scrunches up with anguish. “Get it off me.” 

You tug the pearls on your neck and it scatters onto the floor but you don’t care and move on to the white dress, yet Yeonjun stops you once more.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I never said you were.” And because he knows the signs, because he’s seen it plenty of times in you, he grabs the sleeve, rips it, then the hem of the dress, and tears that as well without doing too much. “See? Look. Imperfect.” You hate perfect things and seeing that, the tears of the dress, alleviate a bit of your drumming heartbeat, so Yeonjun grabs a pair of scissors to start cutting off bits of your dress.

All your life you’ve been told to be perfect, that everything you do must be under the command of your father. He made you into his perfect little doll, his perfect little weapon, prepared you for the battlefield, prepared you for war.

For the war that he brought, for the war that was his.

Or rather, he was the war itself.

You are a weapon, and weapons do not weep. Weapons are used and weapons do not run off on their own. Weapons are perfect, they fire at the command of their owner, they’re silent when told, and left to waste if they do not do their job.

You’ve never wanted to be left to waste, you’ve never wanted to be dropped back into an empty room, the White Room, and never picked up again.

“I look broken,” you utter a whisper as if shocked at the image of yourself when you look down at the mess of your dress and the white bandages on your body. Your brows are knitted, teeth grinding on each other, fingers dug into the skin of your palm, eyes red but as always, they refuse to cry.

Because weapons do not weep.

And Yeonjun, for a second, almost panics, thinking he did something wrong, but in Mingyu’s wise words, “Just because it looks like I know what I’m doing when it comes to boss does not mean that is the truth. It is far from the truth. There are times when it feels like I’ve messed up, times when I’m about to panic because she responds differently from what I imagined, but you cannot ever show her that you do not know what you’re doing. Ever. Just pretend when you’re in that position, and if you’re good at pretending, she won’t know a thing,” Yeonjun quickly pulls himself back up.

“You don’t look broken,” he puts the scissors down and takes your two trembling fists. “You look imperfect.”

You look imperfect.

Imperfect.

It does the trick.

He sees the way the crease between your brows starts to soften, how your clenched jaw loosens, the way you let him help your fingers unravel from the strength they held digging into yourself, and how your shoulders fall a bit from being so hunched up.

“I look imperfect?” You ask him, eyes wide and puppy-like, darting right to him and though they shake slightly, they look towards him for an answer, for reassurance, to detect any lie, to seek for the truth. But also pleading, also begging for him to say just that.

Even if the lie must disguise itself as the truth.

“You do,” so Yeonjun lies skillfully. “You look imperfect, boss.”

There’s a breath of relief, quiet and subtle, and it comes in a whisper just barely there. Yeonjun keeps you close and presses a palm to your chest, just where your heartbeat strums.

“Now count,” he tells you. “Mingyu says counting is good, right? Count until he gets here.”

“Is he coming?” You ask when he takes both your hands to take over where his palm once lay.

“Yes,” he lies again. He hasn’t made the call yet. “Soon.”

“You have to stay here.”

“I will.”

“No one can come in.”

“I know.”

“Don’t talk to him, don’t let Karl anywhere near me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I’m tired.”

“Alright, come here.” He pulls you in carefully into his lap, in his arms, and you let yourself be warmed and comforted in his arms once more, this time with your back pressed to his chest.

“I don’t want to sleep,” you tell him. “The nightmares…they’ll come. He’ll come. He’ll visit. And he’ll try to make me perfect all over again.”

He. Your father.

“I don’t want to be perfect.” It isn’t a command, it’s a plea. A desperate cry for help.

“Then don’t sleep. But count the heartbeats, yeah? Count.” The soft lure of his voice, gentle, encouraging.

With hands still pressed against your chest, you let your ear tune out everything else in order to hear the beat of your heart so that you can start counting them.

One. Two. Three…

It’s fast and you know that you can’t completely count every individual one of them but you try your best to simply concentrate on only that while your eyes stare out at the window a few feet away. The sun shines brightly from the opened curtains and there’s a small little bird perched on the closest tree.

It jumps onto a branch and rests there with its head moving about in different directions.

There are pretty white clouds up above and one of the bigger ones shapes like a castle and you imagine fairies up there, hiding.

There’s another cloud that looks like a cat and another one shaped like a ghost.

The wind blows and your eyes turn back to the bird that flies off.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…

It’s slowing down, just slightly.

.

.

.

“I heard what happened this afternoon.”

Kiwi keeps you distracted as he nibbles with your finger. You can’t recall when he’s decided to hang around you rather than his own master whenever you’re around but at least it gives you a reason to not look someone in the eyes.

“Would you like to tell me what happened from your perspective?”

Thirty-something years old. You can’t even remember just how old you are but lately, it hasn’t mattered in the slightest because you feel much younger than what you actually are. Like you’re twenty-something. Even a teen. It doesn’t feel like you’ve aged much.

Your birthday hasn’t been celebrated since your time at the Bangtan manor but it doesn’t really matter. Nothing really matters.

Because you feel like a kid back under the control of your father, having to do what you’re told, obeying his every command like someone who can’t do anything on her own.

Under scrutiny.

“What did Karl tell you?” You pop a question of your own, eyes still unfocused, mind still trying to pretend you’re fine, that you’re okay in a room full of strangers.

There’s only one stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

“He said you provoked him.”

“That’s right.” You don’t deny it and instead nod, expression blank so that Alexander cannot tell what’s going on inside your head. And maybe he does, maybe all of this faking is futile because he’s so wise, but you don’t care. You keep still, you keep vague, and you remain cold.

“Is that so…?” He trails off, perhaps thinking, and you can feel his eyes never leaving you. “And what was it that you did to have provoked him?”

“I told him something he didn’t like.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I killed his best friend.”

“And did you?”

“I did.”

“And who was that?”

“My father.”

He pauses, perhaps because he hadn’t expected that answer but you’re sure he’s thinking back on the moment when you first mentioned your father to him. The “story” you gave him was that your father passed away and was a good friend of Karl’s, though you never mentioned anything else about it. 

And now here’s the answer; you killed him yourself.

“Is that why you let Karl do what he did?” He asks you. “Because you thought you deserved the punishment for what you did? Some people may not regret their actions but they’ll let the person most affected do something against them. Was that how it was?”

No.

No, not at all.

You didn’t let Karl hurt you because you knew he’d be hurt by what you did. You didn’t let him hurt you because you thought he at least deserved to lash his anger out on you. Or that you felt bad. Or that you wanted some sort of punishment. Or that you were repenting.

You let Karl hurt you because you’d always let him hurt you, just as you’d always let everyone hurt you.

Because that was how it always was.

A habit.

Being the weaker one, being the one who would chant the words endure, endure because that was what was instilled in you from the moment Mister Butler died. You cannot get out of your habits that easily, you do not just get stronger because you vow to yourself you will.

You don’t just get stronger and you certainly don’t just decide ‘I won’t let anyone step over me anymore’ and succeed on the first try.

Or the second try.

Or the third.

Even the tenth or hundredth time.

You let Karl hurt you because you were used to it and your body, remembering how it always was before your father died, returned to those habits.

The habits of staying still, the habits of enduring all that came at you.

“Yes.” But you lie because what else is there to say? You lie because there is nothing else to say. Because you don’t want to tell the truth. Because the truth means explaining and explaining means opening up and opening up means trusting and trusting never ends well.

You lie because you have to.

“That is all there is to it.” You put Kiwi down onto the floor and stand up straight, making sure to look in the old man’s direction with your hands held together in a formal stance. “Karl’s story is the whole truth. I deserved what he did, for killing his best friend, for killing my father.”

His brows are furrowed and you sense doubt in his eyes but because he has no proof and because you’re not willing to share anything else with him, he can’t push you too hard about the matter. “Whether that is the truth or not, do you really think a man much older and bigger has the right to hurt a woman younger and smaller in stature? No–” he fixes his sentence, “do you think a man is in his right to hurt a woman?”

“A man is capable of hurting anything that he wishes to hurt. He is in the power to do so.”

“You are strong, Y/N.” He stands to meet your eyes, serious, calm, and collected, but there’s a little twitch in his brows to indicate that he feels a bit frustrated by the situation. “You are capable of dodging his attacks. Even if a man were much bigger and stronger than you, you have the brains to outsmart them. You don’t look like someone who will easily let someone else step all over you.”

No. You are exactly just that. You are still the little girl you thought had changed. You’re still weak.

“So I’ll ask you again, Y/N; why did you let Karl hurt you?”

You hate feeling caged in and right now, despite the fact that only Alexander stands in this room, you feel eyes from all over. And maybe that’s just you being paranoid, maybe you’re just making it all up in your head, but you hate every bit of it. 

Every bit of this.

“I gave you my answer, take it with a grain of salt. Do not pretend to be on my side.” And with that, you turn your back to him and walk off without another word.

Alexander doesn’t chase after you but you feel his eyes.

It’s ironic the way you’re supposed to be the one trying to gain his favor and yet this happens; you pushing him away and putting up your walls. And Asher makes sure to remind you of that.

“Isn’t the whole point of you being here to gain his favor?”

He stops you in the middle of the hall when you’re heading back to the guest room.

“Why?” He asks, genuinely curious, maybe even with a bit of genuine concern in that tone.

“Maybe I’m tired,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Of?”

“Of trying to be likable.”

He hums, considering the answer with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. “And that young bodyguard of yours,” he brings up Yeonjun, “he may be a kid but don’t you think he deserves punishment for failing you?”

“No.” You reply easily and Asher raises a brow.

“You won’t punish him?”

“I don’t blame him.”

He watches you as if you were a strange being, like you weren’t making sense, though there’s a bit of unease that marks his features, some sort of disturbance that troubles his thoughts and you realize that you’ve said too much so you start walking again.

“My people aren’t allowed to act unless I tell them to.”

But Asher doesn’t want to leave it with just that. “You wanted my uncle to hurt you?”

“Nobody wants to get hurt willingly, Asher.”

“Then what is it?”

You’re talking too much.

“It is none of your concern, that’s what it is.” With that, you pick up your steps and walk into the room before he can push you any further.

Jungkook is in there when you walk in, and although being left in a room with just him should trigger some sort of response, surprisingly you don’t tremble that easily and perhaps that’s due to the fact that somehow, in some way, your body just knows that Jungkook doesn’t pose any threat to you. Perhaps because somehow, in some way, you’ve learned to put some trust in him in just the slightest way through the times he’s spent acting as your guard.

It’s been a little over a month.

Mingyu came here prior to your meeting with Alexander and surprisingly you didn’t need him as much as you thought you did. You think that’s because Yeonjun managed to calm you down well, despite his perpetual fear in the beginning. He picked himself up in time, after all, and was there for you by mirroring what Mingyu would have done.

Maybe in some ways, your right hand man has trained all the Reapers in how to respond to you when he isn’t around.

He took Yeonjun away for something, though right now you aren’t too concerned about it.

“..Kook.”

You feel tired, you feel drained, and that’s why you’ve managed to only call Jungkook by a shortened name.

He’s responsive at the first call, despite how quiet your voice is, and when he sees that you’ve given him permission to come in close contact with you, he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you.

“Do you need something?”

It’s odd the way you feel some sort of relief he’s as responsive as he used to be all those years ago. Maybe because a part of Jungkook will always remain the way that he always was, maybe that’s why you’ve learned to associate him with a figure that you can put a bit of trust in.

“When are they coming?”

“They?” He tilts his head and when you reach a hand out towards him, he takes it in order to help you because you feel your legs are weak in the knees.

“Namjoon. Them.” He takes you to the bed so that you can lie down.

“In a month or so,” he replies. “You said as much time as you need to gain Alexander’s favor but the latest would be in a month.”

You’re already winning so what’s the point in waiting? 

It’s been a month, over a month.

You just want to go home already.

“Can you call him?”

Jungkook looks for his phone. “What for?”

“Tell him to come earlier,” you say, body turned over towards him, cheek against the pillow, eyes drowsy. “In a week. I don’t…Karl has…I want him dead.”

For a second his thumb hovers over his phone to look back over at you and there he finds, the little girl he’s seen holding her walls up so high not even a plane can cross over, beginning to crumble in just the slightest way.

You look exhausted.

The makeup does not hide the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t hide the exhaustion, how drained you are over all of this. And maybe a part of that is due to your insisting to stay awake when you needed sleep but a big part of it is the mission itself.

Every mission is a little different from the other, but Jungkook has come to know that every one of them involves someone who has sucked all that sweet girl energy out of you. They’ve all done you wrong and it can’t be easy. It can’t be easy having to face all of them one by one, trying to deal with it all, trying to rid of them, and ultimately as a result, hurting yourself in the process.

“Kook?” Your eyes went closed for a second but upon his silence, you open them up again in order to look up at him, and due to your exhaustion, he finds the pretty girl he once loved all those years ago with the smallest voice as if calling out for him in a sense of help.

“I-I’ll call.” He’s flustered, slightly, but hits the call button with his thumb and walks towards the bathroom. “Stay awake, alright? I won’t be away for too long.”

He closes the door behind him to start looking around for something just as Namjoon picks up on the other end.

“Jungkook?”

“Y/N wanted me to tell you to come earlier.”

“Earlier?” It’s surprising on his end because just the night before, you told him to stick to the original plan. “Did something happen?” Of course something must’ve happened for you to change your mind so quickly.

In some ways you’re just as stubborn as he is, so he knows you aren’t someone who will change your mind that easily.

“This afternoon, uh…” Jungkook hesitates, not sure if it’s okay to relay him the news but something tells him you probably expect Jungkook to not stay silent about it to the boys. They share everything with each other after all, and if you really cared, you wouldn’t have let him anywhere near you after what happened. “Karl, you know, after touching her when she felt uncomfortable?” He did mention the incident a few weeks ago to Namjoon already. “Well, Y/N took up his invitation to tea in order to catch up and stuff and I assume she pissed him off.”

Somehow, Namjoon expected that. After all, you hinted at doing something reckless during your call with him. 

“I’m not sure what happened exactly because I wasn’t there but Karl hit her.”

“What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end. “What do you mean hit her?”

“Not just once. She has bruises as a result.”

“Bruises?”

“I should get back to her, she might fall asleep but I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon’s reply before cutting the call off and returning to your side out of worry that leaving you alone for too long won’t be good, and the fact that you might have actually fallen asleep on him.

Surprisingly you’re still awake, though your eyes are as droopy as they were when he left you.

“Can you turn over on your back?” Is the first thing he asks of you and you obey, turning over. The bed dips a little when he takes a seat beside you and that’s when you feel he begins to take your lashes off.

“You know there’s a lot of processes that go into taking off makeup, right?” You tell him when he takes the other one off.

“I know, bub, I’ve done it before.”

Right.

He’s helped you before.

“So just stay still, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”

You listen to the lure of his voice, as soft as the way he used to speak to you all those years ago, and let your eyes close as he begins to swipe the makeup wipe over your face. It’s gentle the way he does it, almost as gentle as Dasom, and although he’s a little clumsy and isn’t as fast as she is, he does his best during it all.

When the makeup wipe is done, you feel your hair pushed back and a band coming over to keep it out of the way, then some sort of cloth on your chest and tied behind your neck.

Warm water walks over your face. Bits of it, not too much, not too little, so that you don’t get too wet anywhere else, and then the feel of soapy foam begins to rub in circles all over your face. The massage feels nice and you almost feel your consciousness slipping away but you keep awake to the touch of Jungkook’s hands.

About a minute later, he soaks a washcloth into water and starts to wipe the cleanser off you so that you don’t have to sit up and wash it off with water yourself.

It takes a moment but eventually, he gets it done, and then you feel a wet cotton pad swipe over next.

Something about all of this, the steps he memorized either for you from the past or the fact that he now does it himself regularly, feels rather domestic and just…soft.

And in your sleepy and tired state, you feel anything but uncomfortable, lured in with the feeling of basking on top of clouds with your head bathing under the warm sun with light little pitter patters of rain sprinkling over you.

You don’t know why you enjoy this so much despite how different it feels from when Dasom does it for you, but knowing that your trust is beginning to leak outside of Reapers somehow brings a sort of comfort you never thought you’d feel.

It’s a little frightening because trusting is always scary, especially for people that had once broken it, but for some reason, it just…feels right.

Somehow.

And maybe that’s because you know they were never at fault in the first place, that they were just forced into making an unwanted decision. 

Jung Hoseok would probably be in the same position as they were were he to realize the truth all those years ago. If he hadn’t gotten hurt on that mission. If he hadn’t been forced to lay on the infirmary bed in order to recover. If he hadn’t stood away from the six of them.

Even still, as you’ve said it plenty of times before, just because someone doesn’t mean them doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

In the safe space that they provided you, you were kicked out of your own comfort and forced to return to the hell you thought you had escaped.

“Why do you not cry?” His voice keeps you awake and when you look up at him through your lashes, eyes feeling quite dreary and heavy, he finds himself pausing in his ministrations as he stares down at you who’s looking up directly at him.

“Why do you ask that?” You return a question, voice just as soft.

Jungkook’s eyes trail down your face. “Karl…he…” he didn’t see what happened but the aftermath of it is right before his eyes. “And Leehyun and…..” He presses his lips together. “You have..so much to cry for.”

“...Do I now?”

“Is there nothing left?” He asks, a hand brushing back small strands of hair that tries to block your eyes.

You don’t nod because you’re too tired to move so you nod through a blink. “It’s all dried up.”

From the water that he used to clean your face, a drop falls from your lash and trails down your cheek, mirroring what a teardrop looks like, and then you say, “But…if I knew how to cry……do you think you deserve to see them?”

He doesn’t reply but you have your answer.

He doesn’t feel worthy.

This Jungkook and the Jungkook you once knew long ago are the same in the way they always feel unworthy of something. No matter how many times you can assure him, he will always think there is something he can do better, that he is undeserving, that he can never be enough.

But unlike idiots who simply say “I don’t deserve you” and go about their days after breaking your heart, Jungkook says it and steps up to do what he can to try and prove to himself that he can be someone deserving.

He always did all that he could and when there came a point when he looked as if he could finally come to terms with being at peace with his love for you, it was ripped away from him all too soon and now he’s back to square one, trying to prove himself.

Even if it isn’t in the form of love.

Jungkook will always care.

But even still,

“I still hate you.”

It comes out soft, it comes out quiet, and a little timid and a little brave, but you hadn’t meant for it to come out.

If you were wide awake, if you weren’t in such a vulnerable state, you would have never spoken those words to him. But because your consciousness is on the verge of slipping away, you speak them out loud for him to hear.

“I know.” And he replies in the same voice, the same softness, quiet, and timid, and brave.

He doesn’t leave your side even after those exchanges uttered unto each other and you fall asleep next to his presence, next to his comfort, next to his warmth.

.

.

.

Jungkook wasn’t there when Taehyung said he witnessed you sleepwalking but he said that it wasn’t the sort of sleepwalking you’d see in a normal person. He said you looked like a ghost more than anything, and that at times, you’d just stand still in the middle of the room and not move an inch.

No, not a ghost. A corpse.

And now here he is, after endless refusal to sleep and finally allowing your eyes to stay closed, he witnesses what Taehyung had meant.

A corpse standing still in the middle of the room, blanket over her shoulders, eyes staring up at the dim sky outside the window, blank and without any hint of life in them.

He watches you from a distance, a furrow in his brows, with his tongue bitten back and his fists clenched by his side.

Subtle anger lies in his heart, brewing, not at you but towards the world that has made you into the sort of person you are today. Or maybe it had always been this way, maybe you had always been hurting and he just never noticed, maybe it was always like this all along and maybe, perhaps, they made it worse when they left you all alone to fend for your own self.

Feeding you to the wolves.

He’s angry not just at the world but at himself and Jungkook knows that if the truth were to ever leave your lips about what actually happened to you, about all the things that you’ve gone through, he knows that this hatred he feels right now is only but a small fraction waiting to build up before it all breaks into the tiniest little pieces.

Shattering in the way he had broken you.

Shattered.

The world can only do so much but he encouraged it by standing by, by letting it all fall down onto you, by letting himself be convinced that you’d be fine, that everything would be alright.

But nothing turned out alright.

In the days and months and years that followed your absence, they returned to how things were, returned to loving one another, accepting one another, forgiving one another. But in those days and months and years, he can only imagine what sort of events you had to face.

While they had each other, while they always had each other to lean on, did you have anyone by your side?

The Reapers may be one thing, supporting you and giving you their utmost loyalty, but did they ever hold power over the things that happened to you in the way Namjoon could have handled it? In the way he would have handled it?

“Y/N?” You don’t answer him when he calls out to you but he expected that so he walks on over to where you’re standing.

You’re as still as ever, and he approaches with a careful, watchful gaze, hesitant when he reaches a finger over to you. 

A small touch to the blanket, just over your shoulder, and when you don’t freak out or move away from him, he puts two fingers. 

Then another.

Then another.

And when you don’t react to his hand, he proceeds to place a hand on your head and press it towards his chest.

You don’t resist.

“Come on, let’s head back to bed, yeah?” And understanding that you’re okay with him even in this lifeless state of yours, because he knows your body is capable of telling the people you trust and don’t trust apart, he puts his other hand under your knees and picks you up to carry you over back to the bed.

You comply well with him despite your unresponsive self, and when he tucks you back in with the blanket pulled over your chest, he looks back to see your eyes staring straight toward him. Empty yet lonely.

Vacant.

Not at him but through him, and his heart aches a little at the sight.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re alright.”

If Hoseok had been here, would he have been able to do a better job looking after you?

Jungkook wishes he could have been better.

#bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts polyamorous #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts mafia au #mafia!bts #bts mafia #bts mafia!au #bts poly!au #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts poly relationship #bts arranged marriage au #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[vinetae]

Try (M) - Chapter 11:

"I..."

Pairings: Taehyung x reader, Jimin x reader, Jungkook x reader, Taehyung x Jungkook

Genre: Angst, Fluff, SMUT (Yep! We back, baby! and steamer than ever 🥵)

Warnings: Blowjobs, Handjobs, cum play, protected sex (thought not mentioned of a condom, no glove no love guys), Makeouts, Riding, Cowgirl, Breast play, nipple play, ANGST. Jungkookie's sad boy. Tears (no, not necrophilia kind of shit, I don't condone that lmao). Sneaky sex, bathroom sex, FLUFF. OMG they're so cute together 🤧

A/n: WELCOME. I am now sober and full of angst. I WISH I had written this master piece when I was high. guess I'm a sappy stoned. I'm kinda a sucker for the fluff during the do shit ☺

As always, Enjoy!

<;- Previous Chapter

“Fu-fuck!”

Jungkook’s quick to cup his hand over his mouth, screwing his eyes at your plump lips working wonders on his cock. You moan, swirling the tip of your tongue around the base of his hardened cock. His palms dig into your marble sink counter, knuckles turning white from such force.

His head is thrown back, using everything he can to silence his echoing cries. Your knees beg for mercy, but the sounds caused by your own lips had overridden their small pleads. You bob your head front to back, watching from parted lashes at his sad attempts to silence himself.

The pad of your tongue brushes against his tip, sending a shiver down his spine. Holy fucking shit! You’re going to be the death of him for sure. But fuck- he would be lying if he denied that he’d be a happy man to die right now.

Your tongue licks stripes up and down the base of his cock, like a fucking lollipop. Your batted eyelashes do nothing but edge him further onto his climax. His blonde streaks fall heavily in front of his face, sweat creating a slight sheen against his heated skin. 

You remove your lips, followed by a ‘popping’ sound. A string of saliva-blended pre-cum makes a thin, sticky bridge from his tip to your lips. You glance up, wiping away excess juices that had dripped from your mouth and onto your chin.

His eyes meet yours, blown and swirling with arousal. You flash a smile, before leaning your head back down, to focus on a different part of his body. 

“HOLY SHIT!-” He’s quick to cover his mouth as your lips suck gently on the curves of his balls. A hand comes to comb through your hair before gripping onto a piece that’s attached to your apex. You hear the slight commotion coming from the near living room, before wondering how long you two had been in here. You smirk, a smile presses your lips while meeting Jungkook’s glassy eyes. 

“Better hurry up, baby. Don’t want them finding out how well I’m sucking your little cock” He lets out a choked cough at the sudden dirty talk. 

“Please-” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking. He’s just so close. One second away from losing it all. Would you swallow? Spit?

“Please what, baby boy.” You stand up, having your hand sloppily running along his hard on. Pre-cum twines between your fingers, making your hands twice as sticky. 

“Tell mommy what you want, sweetheart.” You coo, leaning up to tuck a piece of his bangs out of his vision, his breath hot along your heated skin with eyes blown wide open. 

“Please- Let me..” He chokes on his words, your actions against his cock blocks any sentence he could form. 

“Let you..? I need words, Kook. You want to be a good boy for me, right? You’re going to be a good boy?” He quickly nods, leaning his head back to enjoy the waves of pleasure that tease him. 

“Then tell me what you want.” You tease, running your free hand along the exposed skin of his inner thighs, making his head lull back even further from the soft touches. After a while, he finally answers. 

“You.”

~~~

Childish sounds echo through the small living room, as Jimin cracks open his eyes to the darkness. How long had he been out? He scans the room, before seeing Taehyung cuddled up by his side, natural black locks fall heavenly in front of his face. Soft snores reverberate back to both of them.

He shrugs mentally, preparing to fall back asleep until a sudden noise has interrupted. He looks down your small hallway, seeing the bathroom door light fade in, then back out as the two of you step back into the room to join the others. Your hair’s fallen onto your shoulders, a tangled mess even more so than before. Half of your shirt hangs off your shoulder, and the drawstrings attached to Jungkook sweats are completely undone. 

Not to mention the cum stain right behind it.

No doubt in his mind.

You fucked.

Jimin chuckled at the thought of you two. Eyes blown and glassy, looking as if you’d just gotten higher than mount everest. You carefully lower yourself onto the length of the sectional, snuggling closer to Jungkook’s exhausted frame. Your eyes start to close, the last 20 minutes plays like a movie in a cinema on the back of your eyelids. 

“F-fuck! Come with me, please!” Jungkook whines, reaching down between your thighs to rub quick circles against your aching clit. Your head gets launched back at his quick fingers, bouncing harder on his hardened cock.

His back pressed against the bathroom cabinets, both hands holding you in place as you fasten your pace. His tattooed hand comes up to reach around your neck, gently applying pressure to the sides. His demeanor changes like a TV commercial. 

“Yeah, ride me like the whore you are, baby.”

 His words fall upon death ears. Usually, you’d respond with some bratty comment telling him who’s really in charge, but honestly you didn’t give a fuck. 

“F-uck! . Look at my little slut, huh? Riding me like a damn carousel” A harsh slap to your ass throws a moan out into the air. 

“My little slut. Being so good for me, baby. Fuck-” His cups his other hand around your mouth, silencing you in a dominating way and -might you add- extremely hot way.

“Fuck- Jimin could walk in any minute. You’d better hurry up and finish baby before your little boyfriend finds you fucking another man like the whore you are. Shit-” You whine, wondering if your whole body could take all of this. He’s quick to realize, and once again; switches like a light switch.

Cue Charlie Puth-

“Are you okay, Y/n? I’ve got you” His pace slows, removing his hands from around your neck, to softly cradle your small figure. (Well, it’s small to him.)

“Was I too rough?” You shake your head, continuing to bounce on his cock, with his head falling backwards, accidentally hitting the bathroom cabinets. You both chuckle at the silly incident, continuing off. 

“Silly” He coos, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, flashing a cute bunny smile. You return the small gesture, as his hand drops down to cup the underside of your breast. Teasing and tweaking the erect bud between his index finger and thumb. You moan softly, leaning down to press small kitten-like licks to his neck. 

“Mmm, Y/n.” He shifts his knee, lifting it a bit higher to give you better access. You smile against his neck, trailing the kisses up before taking his lobe in your mouth, tugging slightly with your front teeth. 

“Mmm, Jungkook '' You mock his tone, a laugh erupts from his chest. You both now sit still, your motions had slowed on his cock, still fully hard inside of you. 

“Y/n..” He reaches to take your hand in his while the other brushes its thumb repeatedly over the curve of your breast. A certain look swirls his irises. It wasn’t arousal, sexual tension, and defidently not fear.

It had been something you hadn’t seen in quite some time. Except when you had been lying in bed tangled with Jimin, having late night conversations as the moon is your only light source. His chocolate irises tell some much, without a single word being spoken. Somehow, you felt everything he was feeling. The nervousness, the euphoria, the-

“I love you.”

Next Chapter ->

Comment or message me if you'd like to be added/removed from my taglist 🤗

©sweethearthigh 2022. Do not copy, translate, or modify my works. Thank You <333

#bts poly!au #bts x reader #bts maknae line #maknae line x reader #bts fics #bts smut #taehyung #jimin #bangtan #bts fic #bts poly relationship #poly!maknae line #bts #jeon jungkook #bts masterlist #park jimin #kim taehyung

[xddaengx]

The Little Things

✧ Pairings: ot7 BTS x Reader

✧ Genre:  fluffy ⎜romance ⎜ polyamory ⎜ recovery au ⎜idol!bts ⎜sfw ⎜domestic!bts au ⎜established relationship ⎜

✧ Warnings: mentions of heart condition ⎜ mentions of surgery ⎜ reader is in recovery from a surgery ⎜ bts just being sweet ⎜

✧ Word Count: 4.2k

✧ Summary: You've never been more glade to have seven men by your side to help with your recovery. Even when times get tough you know they have your back.

Inspiring Song : Hold Us Together by H.E.R and Tauren Wells

✧ Author’s Note: This was requested by @lelewright1234 - i didn't follow to request to a tee and it ended up more domestic and fluffy then angst but I hope you still like it.

‘The rising stars from South Korea are stunning all with their good looks. Girls all over the world and wondering whether these six young men have anyone special in their lives. Just look at our swooning reporter on the red carpet.’ 

The camera pans over, six very familiar faces fill the screen for a moment, each holding a long glare at the flashing lights in front of them, trying to follow each instruction given by the paparazzi. The camera continues to pan, stopping on the wide mouthed blonde reporter watching them move down the red carpet towards her, you can almost see her vibrating with excitement. 

“I don’t know why you always watch these.” The remote is snatched from your hand as a body drops heavily onto the couch besides you, the channel quickly changing despite your protesting. “I wasn’t even there.” He adds. 

“Hey, I was watching that.” You hiss, leaning over trying to snatch the controller back. The larger man just smiles, stretching his arm so it’s further away, the remote far out of reach. “I like watching them all on the carpet, they look so handsome in your suits.” You coo, smiling with triumph as the channel flicks back. “You’d look great too if you were there.” You say with triumph. 

“That’s all you had to say.” Your gaze pauses on the screen, the boys standing stiff on the carpet as a girl tries to squeeze in the middle of them, asking quickly for a photo. You continue to watch as the boys smile politely not declining as the girls manager snaps a quick shot. 

“Do you know who she is?” You question turning towards the large man, surprised as he shakes his head a grimace on his face. 

“No, but manager Se jin probably just told them to smile and take the photo, I think shes some record label CEO’s daughter.” You feel a shiver run down his spine as he reaches for you, one arm draping over your shoulder his remaining hand beckoning your closer. 

“So, do you have anyone special in your life?” You question, your voice mimicking the earlier reporters as you hold your invisible microphone towards him, your body leaning forwards as he tugs you against him, landing on his chest with a heavy ooft. 

“Why I do happen to have someone special at home… Someone very very special to all of us.” Jin speaks softly into your fake microphone, smiling at the way he feels the goosebumps raise on your skin. “We’ve all missed you cupcake.” He hums as you relax against him, dropping your invisible mic to lean against his chest, basking in his comforting warmth. You watch beeps loudly at his words, a deep chuckle escaping in. 

“Making your heart flutter?” He questions jokingly, your hands making quick work of ripping off the watch and throwing it to the other side of the couch. You glare up at him before repositioning until your back lay against his chest, your head sitting comfortably in the crook of his neck. 

“When are the others getting back?” You question, lacing your fingers with his and he rests them against your stomach, one finger tracing the adhesive gauze on your upper chest. 

“Soon.” He says softly, his breath whispering against your skin as he sighs after, his fingers tracing over your collarbones. “How long till your next check up?” He questions. 

“A few weeks, but they think everything is going to be fine, it wasn’t major surgery just a battery replacement.” You respond quickly, your body almost fully relaxed against him as you hear the front door open, the rush of shoes being shaken off and slippery steps down the hallway. 

“Be gentle, she’s still recovering.” You hear Hoseok yell down the hallway, Jin groaning as the younger three member bound into the living room, their faces bright with excitement. Jin presses a soft kiss on your cheek before helping you sit up, slipping out from behind you leaving space available for the others to fit. 

“Before you all ask the same question, she’s fine, doing well, still sleepy and sore, she has a check up in a few weeks to ensure everything is going well but she needs to rest until then.” Jin spits out the information your relayed to him over the afternoon, his hand squeezing on your upper thigh the whole car ride home from the surgery centre. 

Taehyung is the first to take a seat, plopping on the floor in front of you, his chin resting gently against your knee as he looks up at you. “How do you feel?” He whispers, one of his hands sitting tight against your ankle his eyes locked with yours. 

“Fine. A little sleepy is all, doctor said the anaesthetic can take a few hours to ware off.” You answer, your hand reaching for him, running through his freshly dyed black locks, pushing the hair away from his face. Jimin is the next to plonk next to you, his movements soft and slow, not wanting to jostle the couch wrong and hurt you. His gaze is worried as he glances over you making sure there were no signs of discomfort or pain, once he’s satisfied you aren’t lying he shoots your a bright grin, your own smile mirroring his. 

Jungkook is last of the three to join you, taking a moment to watch his friends before shaking his head and barreling towards you, his body slides behind you, his arms snatching you up and tugging you against him. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He mumbles as he buries his head into your hair, letting out a delighted sigh at the smell of your perfume. The older members finally walk into the lounge room taking in the sight with a roll of their eyes, carrying on into the kitchen to help Jin with dinner. 

“Put the monitor back on.” You hear Jin shout from the kitchen, Jimin passing it to you quickly, your face in a pout as you secure it back on your wrist. The doctors demanded you wear a pulse rate monitor over the next to weeks to keep record of any possible complications. 

This may have been your first battery replacement but was certainly not your first operation. 

The first was when you were six, diagnosed with bradycardia and syncope, often having strange fainting spells when playing with your friends. You doctors were concerned that partial collapse of a valve may be causing the slow heart rhythm so they cut you open. 

The second operation was when you were twelve for the pace maker to be placed, too many trips to the emergency room over the six years between meant your doctors wanted to give you a way to reset your rhythm without a trip to the hospital. 

The third surgery was three weeks later when your pacemaker had a malfunction, your father rushing you to the emergency room as the machine shocked your heart several times with no reason, the doctors went in and placed a new one, this one was successful. 

Your fourth surgery was six hours ago, the first time your pacemaker has alerted you to a low battery, the doctors happy to see the machine was doing well, decided a quick battery replacement should do the trick, and once you get signed off in two weeks it should be another ten to fifteen years before you need another surgery. 

The heart monitor beeped loudly if you had a interruption to the rhythm, whether it be a slow in rate or a raise in rate, the machine loved to alert the boys when they made you get butterflies in your tummy, like it was now. Taehyung raises and eyebrow in amusement as you slap at the watch trying to turn off the alarm as Jungkook presses soft kisses on your skin, whispering about how much he missed you. Jimin just rolled his eyes at the youngest affections. 

It had been two weeks since you’d seen any of them but Jin, the six members attending schedules in America while Jin came home a week early to care of you leading up to your surgery. The risk of complications while the pacemakers battery was running out was high so he wanted to be there in case something happened. The company had made up a statement about covid that quickly quashed any fan concerns as to why the oldest wasn’t attending the award shows. 

The night continues easily, the eight of you slipping into routines as if nothing ever happened. The movie closed with its credits your body sat in the direct middle of the couch, the two boys still besides you and one still perched on the floor in front of you, his head resting on your knees as you braid and unbraid his hair, happy for the minor distraction of playing with his hair. 

Your eyes are burning from the effort its taking to keep them open, the long day and recovery from the anaesthetic leaving you feeling tired and weak. Most of the boys had noticed as your fingers slowed in Taehyung hair halfway through the movie. 

“I think its bed time.” Yoongi is the first to speak, pushing himself up from the couch before moving to stand in front of you, his hands reaching out to help you stand. You place your hands in his, happy for the assistance as he pulls you off the soft cushions, Taehyung protesting as the loss of warmth on his back.

“You’ll see her tomorrow don’t be such a baby.” Yoongi grumbles, his hands tightly clasping yours as he pulls you away from the others, your gaze shooting over your shoulder as you bid them all farewell. Yoongi’s apartment was down the hall from Jin’s a twenty second walk, the producer unlocking the door quickly leading you inside before closing the door, disabling the keypad so the others couldn’t sneak in. 

“I thought you could actually use some sleep tonight.” Yoongi says quietly, his gaze flicking down to the small bandage on your chest before back to your face. 

“Well the doctor said no strenuous exercise for the next six weeks so nothing could’ve happened anyway.” You chuckle, leaning forwards to press a soft peck against his cheeks before making your way down the hall to his bathroom. You stop in your tracks as you glance at the fluffy robe and variety of soaps on the counter, a pair of brand new slippers sitting besides the shower as well. 

“I thought you might want a nice hot shower, I know anaesthetics always make me feel slimy.” He says coming up behind you, his comments bring back the reminder of his own recovery from his shoulder repair, the joint stinging with phantom pain as his opposite hand raises to rub at it. 

His words seem come out confident but you can tell by the way his hand reaches for yours that he was nervous about his gift.  “It’s perfect. It’s the little things that matter.” You respond, a small gummy smile breaking out on his face as he offers to leave you alone while you shower. 

“Actually, I might need some help.” You whisper, unsure how to ask. “It really hurts to raise my arms and I need to wash my hair.” You add on, Yoongi faltering but nodding in agreement quickly. Yoongi moves quick to run the bath, deciding it would be easier to wash your hair in the large tub, your body being able to relax in the steaming water. 

“Be careful not to wet the surgical site.” Yoongi comments as he faces the wall, wanting to give you privacy as you slip out of your pyjamas, slowly dropping into the warm water, letting out a sigh of relief as the warmth surrounds you. You’re careful to do as Yoongi says, keeping your upper chest sitting just above the waterline. 

“You can turn around.” You say quietly, not knowing why the situation felt so different. The two of you had seen each other naked before, multiple times even but this felt weird.

You felt vulnerable, as he perches on his knees besides the tub, his gaze locking on your face and not daring to glance anywhere else as he prepares the shampoo and conditioner. His eyes slip slightly landing on the light bruising around your surgical site, the clear waterproof bandage the only thing keeping the wound safe from the water. 

“Does it hurt a lot?” He questions, shuffling on his knees a bit so he’s closer to your head. 

“Not a lot, more of an ache then anything.” You respond, your eyes automatically closing as he cups the water dampening the hair before beginning to massage in the soapy shampoo. 

“It’s mango.” He comments. “You’re favourite.” You hum in delight, your body relaxing a little bit further as his finger work against your scalp, slipping down the massage the back of your neck before he rinses the bubbles off your head. 

Yoongi makes quick work of the hair wash, drying his hands on a towel as he leaves you to finish washing up on your own, wanting to prepare the bed. You manage to pull yourself out of the bathtub with minimal struggle, slipping your arms into the cozy robe and your feet into your new slippers before shuffling down the hallway to Yoongi’s bedroom, letting out a groan of delight as the large pillowy bed, the covers already pulled back, your fresh pyjamas sitting on the edge. 

You dress quickly, deciding Yoongi must be cleaning himself up, before sliding onto the mattress, the bed feeling like a soft cocoon at the end of a long day. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to drift close, Yoongi walking into the room almost silently with the cups of tea, letting out a light chuckle at your clearly asleep form on the bed. 

He’s quick to forgo the tea placing both full cups onto the night stand before tugging the feather down duvet over your clean body. He takes a few moments, sweeping your drying hair out of your face, his finger playing with the springy curls on top of your head, he knows he’ll have to brush in your curl refreshing conditioner tomorrow and help you brush out some knots, but reminds himself that’s a problem for later. 

Yoongi switches off the lamp besides you before making his way to the other side, slipping under the covers making himself comfortable before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling your body close to his as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head. 

“Thank you for being here.” He whispers, pretending not to notice the quiet alert of your heart monitor. 

+

+

“Should we tell her?” The voices whisper outside the closed bedroom door, the mattress is empty besides you, Yoongi must’ve snuck out earlier. The ache in your chest is stronger than yesterday, your pain medications clearly wearing off, you finally lift your head from the pillows glancing down at your phone to see a stream of missed calls and text messages. 

You lock your phone again, not wanting to read any messages as you push yourself out of the bed, swinging the door open with a look of confusion, the seven men huddled outside the bedroom. 

“Tell me what?” You question, your arms crossing against your chest as each of them look around the circle in questioning. 

“There was an article released this morning.” Namjoon is the first to speak, sending a quick nod to Jimin who pulls up the news site on his phone showing you the title as Namjoon continues to explain. “Jin was sighted at the hospital when he went to pick you up - dispatch has sent the internet on a spiral to figure out who you are and what he was doing there.” You feel the way your stomach drops in dread. 

As open as you and the boys were with your relationship, you had always been careful with public affection and exposing yourself, dreading the day their fans found out and how they’d react to the news. 

“And?” You spur Namjoon to continue. 

“They’ve found what they needed, HYBE is currently in contacts with lawyers but they think it’s for the best if a comment is made as soon as possible.” Joon sighs and rubs his forehead, Jimin taking his leaders silence as a cue to finish explaining. 

“They want you and Jin to come out with an offical statement that you’re in a relationship.” You can’t help the way your brows furrowed, confusion setting in. “Just you and Jin.” Jimin adds, his own eyes soft as he reaches out to squeeze your hand. 

“Our relationship is taboo cupcake.” Jin speaks quickly, “It will make things easier if the news is shared about a couple not an octuple.” He explains, not being able to help the chuckle at his own choice of words. 

“Well what do you all think?” You ask slowly. You can already tell from Kook’s face that he’s uncomfortable, the rest seem to be keeping their emotions under raps. 

You all knew this would happen one day, news would get out and scandals would ensue but you never thought it would be so soon, and for some reason never considered only telling the world about one eighth of your relationship. 

“It’s for the best, it’ll lessen the blow to the fans.” Taehyung speaks, his face set in stone as he sighs, “They wouldn’t take it well if they knew you managed to snag all seven of us.” You can appreciate the way his comment makes the rest of the room light up, each of the boys letting out a hum in agreement. 

“I’ll make the call to the heads.” Namjoon leaves the apartment with his phone pressed to his ear. 

News spreads quickly, headlines upon headlines about world wide handsome being stolen from the market - it’s not long before it feels like your entire identity is put online for the world to see and scrutinise, photos of you spreading like wildfire. 

The older members had left an hour ago to attend a press conference to answer any questions that needed to be answered about the worldwide news - Jungkook had left for his training session at the local boxing gym, Jimin having to leave for some conference calls about an upcoming project. 

“Everything will be fine.” Taehyung whispers against your head as his body wraps around you, your head tucked under his chin as he rubs soothing circles on your back. “Jin has been the best at setting boundaries, fan are more likely to respect his choices.” Taehyung continues softly, his soothing working well for your anxieties though you can tell he’s bitter about the situation. 

“I know, but what if they don’t like me?” You ask, quickly adding, “the fans, I mean.” 

Taehyung just shakes his head in disbelief, letting out a breathy laughs as he mumbles, “doesn’t matter, cause as long as we love you, they have no choice but to love you too.” His laugh grows heartier as your watch lets out a high pitched alarm, your emotions never allowed to be a secret. 

You’re not quiet sure when the two of you fell asleep, maybe it was around the third final destination movie, the sounds of endless screaming lulling you both into comfortable slumber, but you awake slowly to the soft poking against your shoulder. 

“Love?” Taehyung’s voice rumbles underneath you, his phone screen lighting up his face as he turns it towards you, a proud smile on his face. 

‘Jin is a lucky man.’

‘I heard she survived a heart attack, only the strongest partner for our worldwide handsome.’ 

“I’ve never had a heart attack but close enough” you sputter.

‘If I were the other members I’d be jealous of Jin.’ 

The comments underneath the article from dispatch are coming in troves, each of them more complimentary then the last. “Bet this isn’t what they expected.” Taehyung laughs proudly as he continues to read the comments being left under the article. 

“I wish I was as pretty as her.” He reads in a high pitched tone. 

“If I were the other members I would have such a big crush.” He continues. 

“I love her hair.” He speaks the compliment with a bright smile, pinching a curl between his thumb and pointer finger, straightening out the piece of hair before letting it spring back in place. “I told you they’d love you.” He brag, locking his phone and placing it to the side. 

“They’re right you know.” Taehyung says softly as you climb off of him, bushing your hair back into a hair tie to keep it off your face. You look at him in question as he wastes no time in teasing, “I have the biggest crush on you.” 

+

+

Things were different now - Jin was able to take you to events, you often preferring to hang around the managers while they walked down the red carpet, taking photos and answering questions, but as soon as the spotlight was off them, Jin hand met with yours, your fingers linking together as he leads you to the table set up for your group. 

The emerald green dress you wore was custom order by Taehyung, the cut of the front and back a low V showing off the pink scars on your chest and back - the man whispering endless praise throughout the night as you faced your fears of showing off the large scarring. 

The boys had been making it clear in interviews that although you were Jin’s ‘girlfriend’ they all had a strong connection with you and cared for you deeply, trying to hint in a discreet way their feelings for you to the public. 

Most fans has taken the relationship well, the rare few complaining that their beloved was stolen from them - but none had been as bold as the reporter tonight. 

“Your girlfriend is brave.” She says to Jin, Namjoon translating quickly as she speaks, “Showing up with her misfortunes on display like that - I wouldn’t dare.” She laughs at the end of her sentence trying to play off the insult as a joke. Namjoon freezes, not sure how to translate what the female reporter said, looking at her with a stern gaze. 

“I think this interview is over.” He says sternly, manager Se jin nodding quickly, guiding your group  further up the carpet to the next reporter waiting. Namjoon pauses for a minute before turning back to the stunned reporter. 

“She is brave.” He confirms. “She is braver than you will ever be, she has survived horrible illness and has recovered and she is free to be proud of her battle scars, I think you should really think about your remarks in the future.” Namjoon is nothing but professional, but all of you can see the way his body is coiled tight with anger. 

You send him a quick smile as he rejoins the group, continuing the evening as if nothing every happened. 

“I appreciate what you said.” You say softly as the body guards pull out your chair besides the leader, the two of you taking a seat at the table. Your hand reaches for Namjoon’s on the table giving it a quick squeeze before letting go, not wanting to give anyone time to snap a picture. 

“Anytime.” He jokes, the dimple on his cheek deepening as he sends you a bright smile. “I feel like we’re going to have some new headlines by the end of the night.” He sighs as he rubs his chin, the smile still not dropping from his face. 

“I’m sure everyone will find any footage of angry Joon as attractive  as I do.” You tease, smiling at the way the pink rises on his neck and the tips of his ears. “Finally.” You exclaim, glad for once your emotions aren’t the one on display, only to let out a long groan as your watch lets out a wail in alarm at your excitement, the group letting out howling laughs. 

This you could get used to.

#bts #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts ot7 x reader #seokjin #jin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #jhope #namjoon #rm #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook #poly au #established relationship

[blu-archer]

Not A burden

Request: @parkjiminie951013

[Magic and hybrids exist, it's not a big part of the story but its that universe that I write about]

I rambled a bit so I'm sorry if it might be long.

I edited [with the cursed read aloud because I physically can't pick up mistakes] but they still might be there. I couldn't actually pay attention all the time...

Word Count: 5946

snz based

Sickie: Hobi

Caretaker: Taekook

Enjoy!

-Not a burden.-

He had successfully suppressed the fact that he was getting sick for three days in the hope that it would pass without genuinely thinking it – it was summer after all.

Who even got cold’s in the summer?

Him, apparently.

It was on day four that his cold truly sunk its claws in forcing to him leave for work early after coming to the realisation that he couldn’t stop sneezing and didn’t want to wake Kook and Tae – coincidentally it was also the fourth day since school had reopened, not that he was blaming his students or anything. Even if two or three of them had been suspiciously peaked and sniffly during dance practice. Now, half-way through day five, he was suffering in his office that he shared with the other dance instructors, grateful for the mostly quiet space so that he could mope without the headache he’d obtained getting any worse before his next classes. By the start of his second class he had taken to switching his water out for honeyed tea so that his voice didn’t give out on him while he taught, and he had managed to get some non-drowsy medicine during a break in his morning. So hopefully he would feel better later, or at least by tomorrow.  It surely couldn’t be longer than that.

The timing was annoying, not that there was ever a time that getting a cold wasn’t annoying, but he was thankful that it only appeared to be settling in his head and not his chest. The last thing he needed was to be teaching dance classes while battling to breathe without coughing up a lung or something – if he had to choose between two evils, he could do a lot worse than a head cold.

Didn’t stop it from being uncomfortable though.

The days were warm, and the temperature only seemed to be rising. His excessive sweating because of it wasn’t helping in keeping his running nose in check and no matter how much he seemed to blow his nose – thankfully past him must have remembered to slip moisturised tissues into his bag at some point in the last few days – any progress that it made was destroyed by him sneezing. Sometimes, and this was becoming infuriatingly frustrating, he didn’t even sneeze. He would come close, so close, and then he’d lose it and be left a hot mess without even getting some type of relief out of it. He had spent the last ten minutes blowing his nose and still he could feel congestion building. His head was heavy, and his throat ached despite being practically coated in honey at this point.

If he could just go home, then he would be content. Sure he probably wouldn’t feel any better than he currently did, but at least he wouldn’t be dealing with hyperactive teenagers for the rest of the day. As much as he loved his students and loved the dance classes that he taught, the energy required was gradually killing him.

There was the creaking sound of a door opening, forcing Hoseok to glance up from his pity party of tea and tissues in case it was a student needing something during the break. Thankfully, it was just his best friend with a smile that was far too bright for the morning he’d just had.

“Seok-ah? Oh, there you are. We were supposed to meet in the contemporary studio like fifteen minutes ago.”

“Jimin, I couldn’t care less about reviewing that routine in this heat. It will likely be great with how much of a perfectionist you are.” He had meant for it to be just the right amount of teasing, but it had come out as more of a snappish retort. Like he had turned into some moody gremlin. Oh god, had he momentarily turned into Yoongi?

“Okaaay… Mr. Cranky, you  could have just cancelled.” Jimin frowned, his tail swishing around his legs with growing annoyance. “I was waiting for you for nothing.”

Hoseok winced at the sharp look the hybrid sent his way as Jimin rounded the room to his own desk and pulled out his lunch. “Sorry. I should have messaged, but I honestly forgot all about it until now.”

“Really?” Jimin pouted, peering at his friend with wary eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Mmm. I’ve got a cold and paired up with these heatwaves, it’s turning my head to mush.” Hoseok complained. 

Jimin’s eyes softened with sympathy.  It wasn’t often that Hobi got sick – literally out of their entire department he probably had the strongest immune system, but alas. Even the strongest of them fall at some point. “Why don’t you head out early?”

“It’s not bad enough for me to go home.” He shrugged, resting heavily in his palm. The hard wood of his desk was beginning to hurt his elbow, but he didn’t have the energy to shift into a more comfortable position. “Plus Jungkook is working on some commission projects at home, so I’ve been trying to stay out of his way.”   

“You’d have to go home eventually.” The three of them lived together, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see his partners at some point in the evening. “It might be better to just take it easy and rest.”

Hoseok sniffed meekly then gave a small head shake. “Taehyung has been swamped with his private studies with Yoongi – as in he sometimes doesn’t leave his little cave of spell books and crystals and herbs and all the other things that I’m worried might one day just collapse on him in that tiny study. I still have to go grocery shopping for dinner or maybe get some take out, I don’t think I can cook without potentially sneezing in it.”

Jimin looked like he was going to argue – his mouth pulling into that mildly angry pout – before he changed his mind, whipping out his phone and typing surprisingly quick with just one hand as the other grabbed chopsticks for him to start eating. “Get something delivered. There’s this really nice place that has the best soups, I’ll send you their details. They have other stuff too, but I usually order from them when I’m not feeling well or when Yoongi is away. It will open your sinuses right up and it tastes great – so like, a win-win situation.”

Maybe Jimin was onto something with that. He wouldn’t have to cook, and he could go to the store for groceries tomorrow when he would hopefully be feeling better. “That sounds like ..h’hh.. like a g- HA’shh’uh! H’ESHiuu!” he groaned, sniffling into his palm as he fumbled for his tissues. “Sorry. Good plad.”

“Best plan.” Jimin corrected, taking the moment to shovel food into his mouth while Hoseok blew his nose. Their break was almost over so he’d need the food if he wanted to survive the next three hours before school broke out. “Just.. take it easy.”

Hoseok didn’t think he really had a choice in the matter, his body was going to force him to whether he wanted to or not, unfortunately.

**

The rest of his day was uneventful. Boring yet still entirely exhausting. His classes had gone relatively smoothly despite the numerous breaks to blow his nose and him sounding a bit croaky towards the end, but they’d eventually ended, leaving him regretting his life choices for a few minutes before packing up his stuff. Then he’d made the drive home filled with teary yawns and blaring music to keep him from accidentally falling asleep. That was the last thing he needed to happen.

Once he had entered their apartment it was like he could finally embrace how tired he truly was, almost sinking to the floor when he struggled to remove his shoes for a minute. Then he shuffled straight to the bedroom, changing into some boxers and a loose shirt that probably belonged to Jungkook before falling face first into the pillows. He didn’t even bother to climb beneath the blankets – it was too hot to bother even if it was his exhaustion that had made the decision for him.

Vaguely he could hear Jungkook in the house, humming and singing as he worked on his paintings. It was unlikely that the hybrid would leave the chaotic corner of the living room that had momentarily turned into a studio and Tae would still be out for a few hours… Hoseok muffled a moan into the bedsheets before he pulled himself up once more just to collect his phone from his discarded pants pocket – going back a second time to collect his car keys as well to put on the bedside table before he forgot about them completely.

The ‘details’ Jimin had sent him earlier in the day was a single link to a website, but it was thankfully simple enough, even for his fogged mind, to put in a timed order that would arrive later. After setting an alarm two hours from now, Hoseok returned to his previous spot on the bed with just as much detachment in his fall as before.

He muffled coughs into the bedsheet, hoping it was quiet enough that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to investigate and then let his eyes fall shut with a final low groan.

**

And as quickly as they had shut, he was forcing them open once more. Although his eyelids did put up quite a fight, Hoseok woke up to his alarm cleaving a hole into his skull.

He wasn’t usually a grumpy person when waking up, but his head ached too much for him to not want to throw his phone across the room. He didn’t, obviously that would be outrageous, but as he managed to finally turn the alarm off he took a moment to breathe in the silence and just imagine how it would have felt to do it.

He cleared his throat with a cough that dwindled into a small fit that left him sniffling and swiping a wrist under his nose. Hoseok pushed himself to sit up all the while frowning at the thin throw blanket that someone must have draped over him during his nap. He hadn’t needed it, but his chest was warm at the thought of such small acts of care. He could almost imagine Jungkook having been the one to do so, he’d watched the hybrid tenderly care for an unaware Taehyung multiple times in the past already. It wasn’t hard to decipher how each one showed their affection.

Hoseok folded it up and tossed it onto his pillow before forcing himself to his feet. Immediately he could feel a shift of congestion in his sinuses that had him hitching into his palm before he pinched his nose, stifling three sneezes that left him breathless and unrelieved.

Thankfully he had some tissues in their bedside drawer that once he had used all of them he made sure to throw them away in the bathroom opposite their bedroom before washing his hands and splashing some water on his face. It didn’t help in changing the fact that his cheeks had lost some of their colour and his nose was beginning to capture a pink hue that was only growing more noticeable the longer he stared at his reflection.    

“Hobi?”

Hoseok turned to the sound of Taehyung’s voice.  The younger had clearly spoken from the bedroom so he took a final swipe at his nose, grimaced at himself, and then stepped into the hallway almost directly into his boyfriend. He had to turn last minute to avoid the full force of collision.

“There you are.” Tae sighed, moving closer until he could sink his face into Hoseok’s neck and wrap his arms around him. “You didn’t say bye this morning, I feel like I haven’t seen you properly in days.”

He tried not to feel too guilty about skipping out on his boyfriends before they woke up, but it wasn’t entirely on him that he’d missed Tae these last few days – the past week the younger had been quite literally burying himself in work until late. “Sorry. Jus’ had class stuff to do.” He cleared his throat again, flushing a little at how rough his voice sounded, but if Tae realised that it was from  anything other than his recent sleep, he didn’t let it show.

“Must have been a long day if you decided to nap.” Tae teased, leading him to the lounge where Jungkook was still working, albeit with a cider in hand and a drying paintbrush in the other. “Jungkook said he didn’t even hear you come home.”

“Saw you on my bathroom break.” Jungkook murmured without taking his eyes off of his painting. “Do you think this is the right colour? Or should it be more of a peach? Damn, it should definitely be more peach.”

“I-hih- It looks good, Koo.” He shuffled a bit away from either of them and willed his nose to behave. They didn’t need to add worrying about him onto their list of things to do. So he lowered himself into the single seater chair and pulled out his phone at the convenient notification chime. “I –“ He smothered a yawn before he spoke again. “It was long. I ordered some food from this place that Jimin recommended because I was too tired to go shopping. ‘Says they’re good. It’s on its way soon.”

“Looks like you’re still tired.” Tae observed. “Thankfully it’s the weekend, so you can sleep in a bit and hopefully catch up on what you need.”

He had forgotten that he wouldn’t need to get up early. Relief flooded him at not having to force himself through studio classes for a third day of feeling like cotton had replaced his brain, because as much as he hoped, he definitely was not going to be better in the morning if he had felt worse after just a nap.

“Is it that noodle place?” Jungkook asked, finally twisting away from his work and letting Taehyung remove the brush from his hand to set it down in a paint splattered jar of water.

“Think so.” Hobi shrugged, his nose was threatening to run again, and he had to fight the urge to scrub at it. “ ‘Ordered a few things so we have a pick.”

Jungkook seemed pleased with that answer, pressing a quick kiss to Hoseok’s cheek before collapsing onto the sofa before downing his drink eagerly and proceeding to stare blankly at his work.

Tae joined him, laying so that his head rested in Jungkook’s lap and his feet barely dangling off of the edge of the couch. “We can catch up on some shows then while we wait. Come lay with me hyung.”

Hoseok brushed him off with a tight chuckle and settled back into his seat, running his hand through his hair with loose fatigue. “I think I’d start overheating if I cuddle with either of you furnaces.”

 He hoped that they didn’t call him out on how the temperature had dropped drastically already. Thankfully Jungkook was too distracted, and Taehyung had learnt not to be too overly demanding, especially when it came to others space. So all he received as response was a heavy pout from the warlock as he fumbled the remote and turned their tv on to some nature show.

 To be honest, he thought he was doing pretty well at keeping his symptoms hidden. Sure he was occasionally wiping his nose with his hand or wrist, which was frustrating because he couldn’t so much as sniff without Jungkook hearing him with how close they were, but he seemed to be getting away with it.

Or at least he had been.

It was about an hour into the mindless show Taehyung had chosen [some African wildlife thing that was all blurring together in a kill or be killed cycle] that Jungkook decided he was going to start painting again. No matter how much Tae complained about being slid off of his lap onto a pillow, the hybrid seemed obsessively fixated on getting his commissions done. It wouldn’t have been a problem, Hoseok usually loved watching Jungkook paint, but his nose had a different perspective the second he smelt the brutal stench of turpentine filling the space. Burning into his sinuses and making his eyes tear up with the need to sneeze. He would be able to excuse one maybe, but the building tickle was savage enough for him to know it wasn’t going to be an easy escape.

His breath had already stuttered audibly enough that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold back anything if he stayed seated there. So he hastily got to his feet, his hand hovering over his face as some type of shield and muttered a weak excuse of making some tea. As soon as his back was turned and he was heading for the kitchen, his nose was pinched shut and he was stifling a frustratingly wet fit between his fingers.

 It was disgusting. He was disgusted with himself. Even as he actively tried to clean up by blowing lightly into his hand and letting the result be washed away in the sink. He tried to get his breathing under control, yet it seemed that the burn that had appeared in his sinuses wasn’t going to be rid of so easily and he was forced to try and hold back another as he dried his hands.

Only to pitch forward again with barely managing to stifle from the force of the sneeze. It hadn’t even helped; it had just left him itchy and teary eyed.

“Bless you, Hyung.”

Hoseok quite literally jumped at the soothing, rich voice. How mortifying. Tae smiled softly.

“You don’t look like you’re feeling well. Do you need a tissue?”

He rested a hand on his chest in a useless attempt to calm his racing heart while he waved the other in a vague ‘so-so’ gesture before catching two more sneezes into his palm. He was sniffing a bit more than usual after that but otherwise tried to regain composure. Not that Taehyung was believing him for a second with his bemused gaze trained on what Hoseok could only assume was his ever-reddening nose in desperate need of attention.

“Jus’ -snnf- sobething in the air, I thingk.”

“Hobi… You’ve been sniffling for days.” Tae said gently. “You don’t usually try and hide things, so don’t start being difficult about it now. Bun and I do that enough for all of us.”

“I-“ His breath caught in his throat, and he stuttered through it long enough to grow flushed as he twisted away. “H’IIEUSHH!”

Taehyung stepped close, so that his chest brushed up against Hoseok’s back, his arm coming around his waist to rub gentle circles over Hoseok’s stomach. The dancer jolted at his boyfriends cold hands momentarily meeting his skin as they slipped under his shirt, but he soon melted into it. So much for wanted to deal with his problems alone, apparently he was an open book. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to mind so much as he gradually sunk back into Tae’s chest. The younger had to strengthen his grip on his boyfriend’s waist to keep him from falling.

“Come lie with us. You know we wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, right?” Hoseok could feel Taehyung’s breath by his ear as he swiped his wrist under his nose – he definitely needed that tissue now. “We haven’t actually made you uncomfortable right? Because you can tell us if we do.”

“No. No, I just thought…” Hobi pulled out from the embrace just enough to turn and rest his head on the warlock’s shoulder. “You’re both busy. I didn’t want to make you worry when you have enough on your plates.”

“Yes, because having our boyfriend that usually tells us every aspect of his day and wellbeing deciding to suddenly hide it wasn’t going to make us worry at all.” Tae murmured but his voice lilted with humour. “You don’t need to do that. Now come… I can hear Kook shuffling around out there and he really needs to take a break from those paintings before he loses all sense of colour again.”

Despite his discomfort Hoseok couldn’t help but let out a small, tired laugh as he got dragged back to their couch, witnessing Jungkook gnaw at the end of his paintbrush without a care of the drying paint there. The turpentine was thankfully closed again but the scent still clung to the air enough for Hoseok’s sniffling  to increase again.

“Hyung is sick.” Tae announced, forcing the eldest to settle in the centre of the sofa before he went to retrieve Jungkook’s paintbrush from him once more. “And you need to stop. It’s family time now.”

Jungkook sniffed petulantly at the latter statement, but joined Hobi on the couch, hugging his knees into his chest before leaning into the other.

“I had a feeling you were. I kept having to replace tissues in your bag.”

Replace… Ah. That makes sense. Of course Jungkook had been the one to hide the packs of tissues in his work bag, Hoseok was giving himself way too much credit by thinking he would ever remember to do that. “Why did you sta-ahh-rt ..snf.. doing that anyway? You did it before I even began to feel bad.”

The hybrid shrugged, pressing his nose into Hoseok neck which was seemingly becoming his favourite action. Jimin said it was something about his scent being ‘clean’, but he wasn’t complaining if sniffing him made his boyfriend at ease. Although he couldn’t imagine him smelling like anything but sweat and sickness right now.

“You were going to bed earlier and snoring a little.” Jungkook replied as if it were obvious. Which for some reason made Hoseok even more embarrassed about the situation.

Taehyung even hummed in agreement, nudging Hoseok in the side playfully as he sat on the other side of him, and finger snapped a tissue box into existence on his lap. He tried not to seem too impressed at how much better he was doing at simple magic like that, cutting Hoseok off before he could even think to comment on it.

“No need to blush, Sunshine.” Tae pressed a kiss to his check. “Your snores are very cute.”

Hoseok groaned, pushing them both away as they burst into giggles. “You’re hor-ih’hh…ugh. Horrible. Both of you.” He sniffed with annoyance and claimed a tissue, rubbing his nose with enough force that he winced at the liquid sound it made.

Yet his actions, despite his silent plea for reprieve, did nothing on helping the itch in his sinuses loosen and he was left to blow his nose with little relief. Not that blowing it did much either. He was still equally as congested and runny as he was before. He honestly didn’t understand the logic.

He went to blow again, managing to plough through at least four or five more tissues and only on the last one did the tickle become unbearable enough to tip him over the edge. Forcing him to rip out an abrupt sneeze into his already over used tissue.

“You don’t sound well at all.” Jungkook spoke softly, more to himself than anyone else. His hand trailing up Hoseok’s spine while Taehyung reached over with a new tissue, trading it with the one that was clutched in their partners grasp. “Tae’s right. It’s family time, so let’s go to bed. We can turn on the AC if you’re still hot and we can just relax together. I’ll wait up for our food if you fall asleep again and just bring it there for us to eat.”

He wanted to decline. After all they could relax here… Yet he couldn’t bring himself to mutter the words. He’d been dreaming of his bed the whole day; he’d be foolish to deny it now after the offer has been so easily presented.

“Delivery shouldn’t be much longer.”  Taehyung mused, leaning back into his boyfriend. “How about this. You two go shower and wash off all that sweat and paint fumes. I will handle the food when it comes. That way Bun can’t sneak in and do more painting.” His tone didn’t leave room for argument and Hoseok couldn’t lie that he found it a little attractive. “I’ll also make some of that tea that Hobi so evidently forgot about a few minutes ago.”

“ You dragged me away.” Hoseok denied weakly as he yawned.

“Sure sure.” But the teasing grin’s only continued to grow on his boyfriends faces.

**

The shower was pretty much hell – even with Jungkook having joined him. The steam may have cleared his congestion momentarily, but it opened way for a string of continuous fits of sneezes that would have even put Jungkook in allergy season to shame. The hybrid tried his best to help though, soaping his boyfriend up before himself and then moving to quickly wash Hoseok’s hair while keeping a steady hand on the elder so that he didn’t slip or sway.

By the time they were finished, and Hoseok was on their bed in fresh pyjama’s having his hair ruffled and blow dried, his head was throbbing with the pulse of his heart in his ears and the pressure in his clouded mind was so heavy he couldn’t even keep from drooping against his boyfriend – probably making it a little harder to dry his hair but Jungkook didn’t utter a complaint. He just scratched at the dancers nape and tried to work faster.

Before he knew it he was being settled under the covers with a small display of some of the food he’d ordered being placed around him. Tae and Kook joined him on either side sipping steaming cups of tea that he himself didn’t have the will power to stomach. Instead he was slowly spooning a broth into his mouth despite his lack of appetite.

He had to give kudos to Jimin’s recommendation because even though he wasn’t at all hungry, the food was decent enough that he kept eating it. Every spoonful or so later Jungkook would slip him a bite of rice or meat to go with his own meal and Taehyung was quick to discard or hand him tissues when he couldn’t sniff anymore.

He didn’t participate in much else other than eating since his energy was depleting drastically even though it was barely 7pm, but he listened to Tae tell them about his day. Embraced the domesticity of him speaking about the new things he’d learnt or accomplished while Jungkook chimed in with praise and reassurance when needed. Taehyung even gave a swift example of summoning a portion of his magic which formed a bright purple orb in the palm of his hand, but let it dissipate when the light had triggered yet another exhausted sneeze from Hoseok when he’d lent closer to see it better. All that, embarrassment aside, had only prompted Tae to reach over and hold a tissue to Hoseok’s nose, telling him to blow and promising to show him again when he was feeling better.

“Are you tired hyung?” Jungkook shifted so that Hoseok was partially leaning onto his chest while they sat perched against their pillows. He continued after receiving a small, croaky hum. “Let Taehyungie get you some medicine first, then you can lie down properly.”

“Mm ’sorry.” Hoseok reached for another tissue as Taehyung gathered their dishes and leftovers before leaving. “Said I wasn’t gonna make you worry, but now you’re distracted from work.”

The hybrid frowned and burrowed even closer to his sick hyung, pulling him tightly into his arms so that his mouth could press gentle kisses against the side of Hoseok’s neck. “I’m not distracted. I need breaks too, as much as I hate to admit it. Plus Tae’s right, evenings are family time and that would still be the case whether you were at full health or not.” He watched as the other wiped at his nose with exhaustion weighing down his movements. “But you don’t need to feel guilty about it, Hobi. You look after us so well when we feel bad, it’s only natural that we do the same. That we want to, because it’s you and we love you.”

Hoseok let out a heavy breath and relaxed his body, his muscles immediately quaking at the realisation that he’d been beyond tense before. He wasn’t a burden. They loved him. Which he knew, obviously, but it was always nice to be reminded. Especially when he would start getting silly idea’s into his head.

“Do we have-!?”

   Jungkook and Hoseok both turned to look at the door, trailing Taehyung’s booming broken question. Then the fluffy haired brunette appeared by the door with a sheepish smile and hands full of bottled medication. “Sorry, I momentarily forgot hyung’s headache.” He moved to set his findings down in Jungkook’s lap, sitting beside the younger while inspecting one of the smaller bottles labels. “I found some of that ointment that Jin and Namjoon made for us a while back. It was made for me I think, but it can be used with Hobi too so… “

“What were you asking earlier?”

“Ah,  I couldn’t find any more of that herbal lotion that helped sooth pain. I got the cold medicine though, and some water.”

Hoseok mumbled a soft ‘thank you’ as Jungkook soothingly rubbing circles into his chest while reminding Tae that they hadn’t restocked what he had been looking for yet – no doubt the young warlock would now be adding it to his ever-growing list of ‘things to do immediately’.

“Koo, unbutton hyung’s shirt for me.” Taehyung spoke softly as he shook out two pills from one of the bottles and slipped them into Hoseok’s mouth, quickly following that by opening and pressing the bottle of water to his lips for him to sip and swallow. It was a bit rough on his throat, but Hoseok had never been fond of syrups, so he would deal with the little ache that the tablets would soon sooth. Jungkook worked nimbly, peering over his boyfriends shoulder to find each button as his arms still encased the elder. It was soft and Taehyung had to take the moment to watch fondly as Hoseok yawned and rubbed at his nose with the tissue that had still been in his hand. Taehyung couldn’t help but lean in and press a kiss the elders forehead. “You can go to sleep if you need to baby. I’m just going to rub some stuff on your chest. It should help you feel better soon.”

“Head is so heavy, I don’t kdow if I cadn.”

“Well this might help then.” Jungkook reassured, running a hand through Hoseok’s hair.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate in opening the small bottle he’d been reading earlier – an ointment that worked just a little bit better than the standard store bought VapoRub that Hoseok usually got. He scooped out a little, letting Hoseok blow his nose before he smeared it on the reddening skin. He took some more and started by rubbing it between his palms to warm it up then spread it all over his boyfriends chest. Usually he would take his time massaging it into the skin, but with how heavy-lidded Hoseok’s eyes were drooping Taehyung thought working fast was probably the best route.

He scooped out some more and lathered it from his boyfriends chest, up to his neck so that the familiar tan skin gleamed before he closed the bottle and Jungkook started buttoning up the shirt again.

“Do you-oh my..H’h.. Eh’heitch’uh… H’iitCHH’ew… Shit, sorry.” Jungkook sniffed, flushing at having sneezed into Hoseok’s shoulder. “That stuff is really strong. ”

“I cad’t smell id.” Hoseok pouted, not even fazed at being accidentally used as a tissue.

Taehyung waved his hands at them, shooing them off of the bed just long enough to drag the blankets down and help Hoseok settle into the centre again, elevating his upper body slightly with some pillows. “I can put some more on your nose if you want. Maybe you’re too stuffy for it to work fast.”

“Ha’d bme a tissue.”

Jungkook moved the box to his lap as he climbed in next to his boyfriend, handing him one before blowing his own nose quietly to remove the little itch that the scent had triggered. Hoseok rolled it into a point that had his partners both raising a brow, watching him fail at trying to get himself to sneeze.

“You don’t like inducing like that.” Taehyung stated with lilting concern as he sat down, and Hoseok groaned. He took the tissue away, folding it neatly in half before setting it in his lap. “Let me try to  help.”

It started with a simple massage of sorts. It wasn’t something he did often, but he had read up on it before. Taehyung ran his fingers over Hoseok’s cheeks and forehead, working in small circular motions. It was definitely a longer process and his heart ached at how warm and swollen his partner was beneath his fingertips.

It must have been a combination of his actions plus the residue of ointment on his hands that had Hoseok soon frantically pushing them away with hitching breath. Nothing seemed to be happening other than a few gasps and a frustrated moan, so Jungkook took the tissue from Tae’s lap and let it over Hoseok’s nose. Forcing the sick man’s own breaths to heat his face while Jungkook began to massage and squish at his boyfriends full nose.

He had just moved to replace the tissue after having pinched and wiped up the mess they had coaxed out when Hoseok pitched forward, belatedly raising his hands as a congested sneeze ripped from his throat, only seeming to trigger more as his passages emptied.

“Bless you. Bless you.” Taehyung took some tissues from Jungkook and immediately took Hoseok’s hands to wipe clean while Jungkook dived in to hold fresh tissues to his face, catching the next round of sneezes.

“I-h’heh HE’ASHHU! Hh’h’ha..H’ATSHOO…H’Hh’hnn… …Htch’u-AT’CHH…h’h…uh’h.. H’ETCH’UHH-“

“Jesus baby.” Jungkook could feel the moisture seeping through the tissue. He switched for another, not quite catching it in time and forfeiting his arm to a bit of the thick spray before catching them in his shielding hand once more. “Breathe a bit.”

“H’h’HAH… …H’ih--HE’NGCHH’UH---H’ATCHEE…… A’TCHIEW-HA’GCHew… h’AGTCHU!!” Hoseok was panting. The itch was still there but it seemed like he’d gotten most of it out. Into the hands of his boyfriend, much to his own embarrassment. “So’ah..ugh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Jungkook smiled, moving the tissues again for Taehyung to now replace them with his own tissued hand.

“Blow.”

There was no point in hesitating, so Hoseok did as he was told. His head and throat throbbed, and he had to take a breather mid blow but eventually he was content enough to lean back and let his boyfriends curl into either side of him. Sure he still couldn’t breathe from both nostrils, but it was better than before. Taehyung even put a little more of that ointment on his nose and Jungkook was right, it was strong and had sent him into another small fit that was thankfully less severe than the previous one. But it had exhausted him in such a way that he was finally able to get some sleep.

The next time he managed to be woken up was by a heavy stream of midday light invading from their cracked open curtains and  Jungkook’s jolting frame from where he was huddled beside him as the hybrid sneezed thickly into the deteriorating supply of tissues.

#bts snz #bts fanfic #bts sickfic #sick hoseok #snzfic #bunny hybrid jungkook #warlock taehyung #hybrid jimin #human jhope #magic exists #colds #dance teacher hoseok #hobi is a mess #caring taekook #they're good boyfriends #domestic boyfriends #poly relationship #anyway enjoy

[bultaoreunheyyy]

Happy Fucking Birthday

Title: Happy Fucking Birthday

Word Count: 3792

Summary: just a little maknae line throuple au situation, in which jungkook twists his ankle and then catches a cold from being out in the rain on his birthday

A/N: sorry but I literally created this tumblr so I could get this idea out of my head i’ll go back to lurking now byeee

___

Jeon Jungkook’s day starts out the way it always does, with an iced coffee in hand, the cup chilling his fingers as he unlocks the bookstore that he owns. 

Well, to be more accurate, it starts out with him waking up in bed between his two boyfriends, Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung, but he’s not really a morning person so he considers the true beginning of his day to be those moments after he gets his first sip of beautiful cold liquid caffeine in his system. 

Waking up between Jimin and Taehyung is definitely the best part of his day though. He usually opens his eyes to the warmth of Taehyung behind him, face pressed into the back of his neck and arm around his waist, and Jimin at his front, pert ass up against his crotch and one hand gripping Jungkook’s to his chest, keeping Jungkook firmly in place. It’s nice, being in the middle. He’s a happy man when he’s between Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, especially when he wakes up in a group cuddle with them. A big-spoon little-spoon sandwich, if you will.   

Some mornings, waking up with the warmth and proximity of two very fine bodies leads to other things, but this morning, Jungkook is fucking exhausted. He wants to fall back asleep, but the bookstore won’t open itself, and Jimin’s alarm is bound to go off any minute, so he carefully untangles himself from his boyfriends and slips into the adjacent bathroom. 

The shower he takes does nothing to help wake him up. In fact, as he stands under the hot water, yawning and struggling to keep his eyes open, he’s legitimately worried he’ll fall asleep and drown under the spray. 

“Happy birthday,” a low, raspy voice says, and Taehyung pushes back the shower curtain and steps inside the tub next to Jungkook. He still looks half asleep himself, and his voice is still waking up, but the sight and sound of him makes Jungkook smile fondly.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning back against Taehyung’s chest. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook had completely forgotten that today is his birthday. He probably would never celebrate it if not for Jimin and Taehyung.  

Taehyung beams at him and then grabs Jungkook’s shampoo bottle, squeezing some out onto his palm, his nose scrunching in irritation immediately at the scent. He lathers the shampoo in his hands and then reaches up, moving his fingers through Jungkook’s hair in a way that’s definitely going to lull him to sleep if he’s not careful. 

After a minute or two, the gently scratching against his scalp stops abruptly. 

“Ohshit, the shampoo– shit–” Taehyung mashes his mouth and nose against his forearm and sneezes forcefully, the sound echoing loudly in the bathroom. 

“Bless you!” Calls out an angelic voice, and a moment later the shower curtain is pulled back once again to reveal Jimin’s face. Instead of his normal happy face, though, Jimin pouts in Taehyung’s direction.

“Why is it that you’re willing to wash Jungkook’s hair for him but you won’t do that for me? My shampoo isn’t even as strongly scented as his!” 

“It’s his birthday,” Taehyung replies, rinsing off one hand under the shower spray before pinching his nose tightly between two fingers. “And his shampoo…it’s not– it’s not that…not that…”

Jimin rolls his eyes, watching Taehyung struggle to fight off another sneeze. “Not that bad my ass,” he murmurs, nudging Taehyung to the side so he can get into the shower with them. He kisses Jungkook on the lips, then spins him around and helps rinse out his hair.

“Happy birthday, baby.” 

“I can wash and rinse my own hair, you know,” Jungkook grumbles, but he’s smiling. “Thank you.” 

They finish their shower quickly after that, taking turns under the spray to rinse off, and Taehyung keeps his hand over his nose the entire time, sniffling and fidgeting but not allowing himself to sneeze again. 

“Wow,” Jimin jokes as they towel off, watching Taehyung closely. “Imagine being strong enough to hold back as something as powerful as TaeTae’s sneeze.” 

Jungkook snorts. “Yeah, it would be impressive if he actually could pull it off.” 

Taehyung looks offended, but in the next breath he’s forced to bend in half as he’s finally overtaken by the sneeze, the expulsion ripping out of him like a scream. 

“Bless you,” Jimin sighs. He kisses the tip of Taehyung’s still twitching nose and then turns to Jungkook with a smile. “I hope you have a good day today, baby. Tonight we’ll make you a special birthday dinner, okay?” 

Jungkook nods and smiles back. Jimin is a first grade teacher, so he rushes off to get dressed for work, grabbing his packed lunch from the fridge afterward. He kisses Jungkook and Taehyung one last time each before heading out the door. 

Taehyung works as a carpenter, and his schedule is a little more flexible. He takes his time getting dressed, pulling on worn jeans and a t-shirt while Jungkook digs through his closet for a sweater. He finds a nice blue one that goes well with his black jeans, and then pulls on a jacket and boots to complete his look. Taehyung pulls him in for a hug, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Jungkook’s ear before releasing him and sending him out the door. 

The sky is overcast and the temperature is a bit chilly, but Jungkook is in a good mood as he stops by the café for his iced coffee and then walks the remaining block to the bookstore. 

He makes it less than two full hours into his day when everything goes to shit.

“Jungkook-hyung?” 

The sound of his employee calling for him breaks Jungkook out of his current state, which is post-last-sip-of-ice-coffee-bliss as he checks emails on his laptop, and he jumps out of his chair, looking around frantically for Yeongsu. 

“Jungkook! Help!” 

Yeongsu calls for him again. He has dropped any honorifics and his voice sounds panicked. Thank fuck Jungkook has already finished his iced coffee. He hurries toward the back corner of the bookstore, trying to imagine what he’s going to find, but he doesn’t get far before he trips over something hard and falls to the ground, ankle twisting painfully as he goes down.   

“Fuck!” 

Jungkook cries out in pain, hunching forward so he can grab his now throbbing ankle. There are footsteps, and then Yeongsu appears above him, eyes wide.

“Hyung! What happened?!”

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath through his mouth and bites the inside of his cheek. The pain in his ankle is unreal. He’s never broken anything before, but he has to have broken his ankle, because fuck it hurts. 

“Jungkook-hyung?” 

Jungkook pushes out a shaky breath and looks up at Yeongsu. He remembers that just minutes before, the younger man had been in some kind of peril himself. 

“What happened with you? Why were you calling for help? Are you okay?”

“I…there was a spider,” Yeonsu answers meekly. Then, he crouches down beside Jungkook. “You should go to the emergency room, hyung. That looks bad.”

Jungkook swats Yeongsu’s outstretched hand away before he can touch his ankle. He pinches the bridge of his nose and suppresses the urge to scream.

“A spider.” 

Yeongsu nods. He at least has the sense to look a bit sheepish.

“A motherfucking spider.” 

“Yes, it was hu–”

“Lee Yeongsu!”

Yeongsu’s mouth snaps shut. And then opens again. And then closes when Jungkook glares at him.

“Would you like me to help you off the ground?” Yeongsu asks, standing and holding out his hand.

Jungkook looks around and grabs on to the nearest bookshelf. Ignoring Yeongsu’s offer of help, he pulls himself up to stand, keeping his weight off the injured ankle. 

“Please go to the doctor. You need to ice that, at the very least.”

Jungkook carefully rolls his ankle to test it out. It hurts like a motherfucker, but the pain is already subsiding a little and he has hope that it’s not broken. He looks at Yeongsu and frowns.   

“And what, leave you here by yourself? What happens if you see another spider? Hmm?” 

“I’ll call Namjoon-hyung,” Yeongsu replies, then swallows thickly when Jungkook narrows his eyes. “I-I mean, I’ll handle it myself. Because I’m capable. Please, hyung, what if your ankle is broken?” 

Jungkook sighs. “I will be calling you to check in every hour. And I swear, if I come in tomorrow morning and the store isn’t locked up…”

Yeongsu is nodding fervently. “I’ll remember to lock up this time, I promise!” 

It takes ten more minutes of Yeongsu assuring him he’ll be fine on his own before Jungkook actually considers leaving, and another ten minutes to convince himself to actually do it. He’s not going to the emergency room, though. He’s pretty sure nothing is broken, and he doesn’t want to explain to anyone that he tripped and fell because his employee was scared of a damn spider. He’ll go home, though, and ice his ankle, and maybe catch up on book orders at home. 

The walk to the bus stop is a slow, painful one. And a wet one, because the second Jungkook steps outside, the skies open up and rain starts pouring down, soaking Jungkook within seconds. By the time he gets to the bus stop, he’s cold and wet and shivering, his ankle is throbbing, and he just wants to be home. 

Some birthday this is shaping up to be.

Somehow, twisting his ankle and then getting caught in the rain on the walk to the bus stop isn’t even the worst part of this day. 

No, that would be the moment he reaches into his pocket for his bus pass and comes up empty. He checks his other front pocket, and then his two back pockets, and then both of his jacket pockets, but his bus pass is nowhere to be found. Then he looks in his wallet, and then pulls out his phone and stares at it like his bus pass might have gotten stuck to it. And then he checks all of his pockets again and tries not to freak the fuck out.

“I had it this morning,” he mumbles to himself, frantically panting himself down. 

The bus pulls up then, and the doors open, and one person gets off. Jungkook makes eye contact with the driver, but even the kindest bus driver isn’t going to let him ride without fare, so he drops his gaze and waits until the bus pulls away before slumping against the side of the bus shelter with a frustrated sigh. 

Fuck him for not bringing an umbrella or wearing a proper jacket, even. 

Walking home in the rain on a busted ankle is as awful as it sounds. Jungkook is torn between wanting to go slow to minimize the pain in his ankle and wanting to go fast so he can just get home quickly. He’s so cold that it feels like his bones are cold. Every drop of rain that hits his forehead or the back of his neck is agonizing. 

Seven blocks into his walk, a car drives through a puddle right next to the sidewalk and it sends an entire wall of water in Jungkook’s direction. On two good ankles, Jungkook might have been able to dodge sideways to avoid the resulting splash, but his current step has him gingerly standing on his bad ankle and all he can do is stand still and watch in horror as the water flies toward him, almost as if in slow motion, before completely drenching him from head to toe. 

He’s shivering so hard he feels like he could collapse by the time he reaches his street. His mood is just getting worse and worse by the second, and he can’t wait to get inside so he can get out of his wet clothes and be miserable in his warm, dry bed instead of being miserable out here in the rain. 

His nose is running profusely and it’s so cold that it almost hurts, and the constant trickle of mucus that he keeps sniffling back is starting to irritate his sinuses a lot. He feels a sneeze tickling his nose, so he lifts the collar of his sweater away from his body and tucks his mouth and nose inside, trying to cover properly. The not one, not two, but five sneezes that come out are wet and messy and make him cringe, but the resulting spray is arguably better ending up all over his chest than somewhere else. It still feels disgusting, though, and as he lets his sweater fall back against his skin he shudders. With a thick snuffle, Jungkook presses his sleeve under his dripping nostrils and desperately hopes they have tissues at home.   

His teeth are chattering by the time he’s in front of his door. His fingers tremble as they grasp his key, but when he finally gets it into the lock it turns too easily, as if the door had already been unlocked. Pushing the door open slowly, he peers into the apartment, wary of there being an intruder inside. 

There is someone inside his apartment. Two someones, and they stare at him, mouths dropping open, mid-hanging up a banner that reads Happy Birthday! across the hallway. 

“Kookie?” Jimin jumps down from the chair he’s on and rushes over, but Taehyung stays frozen in place, staring at him in shock.

“W-what the fuc–” Jungkook is cut off by a set of three tremendous sneezes that he barely catches in the crook of his elbow, and the action nearly throws him off balance. He leans his back against the wall and tries to stay upright. 

“Oh! Bless you. You’re all…wet?” Jimin reaches up to run his fingers through Jungkook’s dripping hair. “Why are you soaking wet and why are you home so early?” 

Jungkook sniffles and huffs a breath out through his mouth. 

“Why are you two home so early?” He asks, even though it’s pretty obvious based on the banner and the balloons in the corner that he’s just now noticing. He had initially thought it to be a bit odd when all four of their friends had claimed to be busy tonight when Jimin and Taehyung invited them over last week, but now it makes a lot of sense. 

“Surprise?” Taehyung finally says, brain catching up to the situation. He jumps down off the chair and comes over to stand next to Jimin. He gets right up in Jungkook’s personal space, eyebrows knitting together as he watches Jungkook shiver and wrap his arms around himself. 

“You’re shivering,” Taehyung notes, voice full of concern, and Jungkook has to put a hand against his chest to push him away a little because he’s about to sneeze again. 

“Fuck,” he hisses after he sneezes, because he’d accidentally put full weight on his ankle in favor of not falling over and it hurts. 

The next thing he knows, he’s sliding down the wall until he’s on the floor, his bad ankle stretched out in front of him, and his eyes are hot and his head hurts and his ankle hurts and his nose hurts–

“Don’t cry, baby,” Jimin urges, kneeling down in front of him and brushing his thumb under Jungkook’s eyes to wipe the tears that are now falling. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“My ankle,” Jungkook whimpers, and then he’s sobbing, loud, wet wrenching sounds that come straight from his chest. He feels a hand pull up the leg of his jeans, careful fingers brushing over his skin, and then Jimin touches his face again, impossibly gentle and soft. 

“What happened, Kookie?” 

Taehyung is taking off his boots and Jimin is stroking down his cheek and Jungkook can’t do anything but sob. 

“I’ll run him a hot bath,” Jimin says after a moment, leaning forward first to press his lips to Jungkook’s forehead. “Will you carry him into the bathroom?”

Jimin disappears down the hall, and Jungkook can hear the sound of the water being turned on in the bathtub. Taehyung scoops him up off the floor, careful not to jostle his ankle too much, and carries him down the hall like he weighs nothing despite the fact that Jungkook has a good six or seven kilograms on the older man.  

In the bathroom, Taehyung sits Jungkook down on the toilet seat and squats down in front of him to check out his ankle.

“It’s swollen, but I don’t think it’s broken or anything,” he says to Jimin. “I’m not a doctor though. Do you think we should take him in?”

Jimin bites his lip. “Let’s wait a bit, see how it’s doing after we elevate and ice it for a couple of hours.” 

Once the tub is full, Jimin turns off the water, and Jungkook peels off his wet clothes. He has stopped crying, but his face is still wet with tears. He allows Jimin and Taehyung to help him into the bath, shivering as his chilled skin is submerged under water. The hot water does wonders to warm him up, though it makes his nose run tenfold to breathe in the steam. He keeps his foot up on the edge of the tub, so his toes are a little cold, but he knows it’s best for the swelling in his ankle. He lets his head fall back, feeling exhausted and completely drained of all energy. 

Just outside the bathroom door, he can hear Jimin and Taehyung whispering. He doesn’t catch all of what they’re saying, but he can hear that they’re talking about him and the party they had planned for him tonight, and it makes him feel sad to know they planned something for him and will now probably have to cancel it. There’s a sudden lump in his throat, and he lifts his head, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes to stop the tears that are welling up again.

When Jimin and Taehyung come back into the bathroom, Jungkook sniffles wetly and leans his head back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to make eye contact and see the disappointment in their eyes. He hears Taehyung make a low, sad sound, and then someone is beside him, their hand coming up to push Jungkook’s hair off his forehead. 

He cracks one eye open and sees that they’re both kneeling at the side of the tub now. Jimin is closest, and he’s holding up a dry washcloth, one eyebrow raised as if in question.

“Why don’t you blow your nose, sweetheart?” He says, bringing the washcloth to Jungkook’s nose. “You’re starting to sound stuffy.” 

Jungkook’s face flushes in embarrassment, and Jimin, noticing his hesitation, dabs the washcloth under his nostrils like it’s no big deal he’s literally wiping the nose of another full grown person. Jungkook does really need to blow his nose, but he can’t bring himself to do it when Jimin is the one holding the washcloth, and he’s grateful that Jimin doesn’t push further. When Jimin is done, he folds the washcloth and sets it on the edge of the tub, then dips his hand into the water to check the temperature.

“The water is starting to cool. Let’s get you washed up and then you can get out of there.” 

Taehyung switches places with Jimin, leaning over Jungkook to kiss his temple before settling back on his knees. 

“I get to wash your hair twice today,” Taehyung says, his smile wide. “Lucky me.”

He reaches out for Jungkook’s shampoo bottle, but Jungkook stops him with a hand on his arm. 

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t need you to wash my hair. You already did that this morning, and my shampoo bothers you anyway, and–”

“Jungkookie,” Taehyung interrupts, voice firm. “I would snort your shampoo straight up my nose every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to take care of you like this, okay? Just let me do this one thing for you, love.”  

His ridiculous statement makes Jungkook laugh wetly, and he takes his hand off of Taehyung’s arm. When Taehyung flips open the top of the shampoo bottle, it’s Jungkook who lets out a string of sneezes, to all of their surprise. 

“Kookie, baby,” Jimin says. “Did you catch yourself a cold out there in the rain? You’ve been sniffling and sneezing since you got home.” 

Jungkook shrugs, because he’s positive that’s exactly what happened but he doesn’t want it to be true, because that would just make this shitty day even worse.

“You poor thing,” Jimin coos. 

“I don’t wanna catch a cold,” Jungkook sniffles. “I don’t wanna have a twisted ankle.” And then he’s crying again, tears running down his cheeks, and Jimin is pulling the plug to drain the tub while Taehyung pets his wet hair and kisses his temple again.  

“It’s okay, Jungkookie,” Taehyung whispers. “We’ll wash your hair tomorrow. Let’s get you into some warm clothes.” 

The two of them help Jungkook out of the tub and then help him dry off, and then they each get one of his arms around their shoulders so they can help him into the bedroom. 

“Would you like to rest a bit?” Taehyung asks once he’s dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, and Jungkook nods. 

It’s only 3 p.m. Jungkook crawls to his spot in the middle of the bed and all but collapses onto his back. Taehyung pulls the comforter up to his chin, and Jimin lifts the blanket at the other end to slide a pillow under Jungkook’s ankle. They forgo an ice pack, because now that he’s out of the bath, Jungkook is shivering again. 

“Do you want cuddles?” Jimin asks, and Jungkook bites his lip to keep it from quivering and nods. 

Jimin and Taehyung crawl into bed and wrap their arms around his waist. Taehyung smooths his hair back, his fingers running soothingly through his damp locks, and Jimin rubs lazy circles on his stomach. It feels nice, to be cuddled like this, even though he feels rather miserable. Jungkook really does feel stuffy now, his breath whistling in and out of his nose, and the congestion is making him have to breathe out of his mouth. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on Jimin and Taehyung’s touches instead of the fact that his head is now hurting too.  

Happy fucking birthday, Jungkook thinks to himself as he drifts off to sleep, his nose stuffed up and his ankle throbbing and his eyes swollen from crying.

At least he has the comfort and the warmth of his two boyfriends on either side of him.

#sickfic #sick jungkook #bts sickfic #bts snz #jungkook whump #catching a cold from being in the rain #because that's my favorite #part two where seokjin yoongi hoseok and namjoon still come over that evening to celebrate jungkooks birthday and help take care of him #huh? #what? #bookstore owner jungkook #teacher jimin #carpenter taehyung #jungkook/jimin/taehyung #poly relationship

[rainbowsuitcase]

Fanfic Rec Friday #2

Linked are the fics and the authors' tumblr or other social media accounts

Never Too Much by @kuunkajo - Yoongi x Namjoon, 10 104 words, M - A/B/O, Omega/Omega, Pregnant Namjoon, Protective Yoongi

Namjoon is pregnant and Yoongi sees it as his responsibility to keep him safe in every way he can

Ready to breed by harub95 - Seokjin x Namjoon x Jungkook, 2 451 words, E - A/B/O, Pack OT7, Pack Omega Namjoon, Breeding

Before his heat, Namjoon tells his pack he wants to get pregnant. Seokjin and Jungkook take up the challenge.

Omega Joon fest 3 - Fest dedicated to omega Namjoon fics

High Strung by littlebee1 - Yoongi x Hoseok x Jungkook, 3 500 words, E - Fluff and Smut, Praise Kink, Cock Warming

Jungkook has been particularly high strung lately. Yoongi and Hoseok know exactly how to get him to relax.

bite and switch by crycoby - Seokjin x Hoseok x Jungkook, 17 699 words, M - Established Seokseok, Vampire Jungkook, Blood Drinking

Jungkook is a newborn vampire who accidentally bonds with Hoseok. There's only one problem - Hoseok has a boyfriend.

Poly Hoseok Fest - A fest full of poly fics, all involving Hoseok

The Truth's Worth by Lecrit - Seokjin x Yoongi, 223 093 words, M - Modern Royalty, Friends With Benefits, Secret Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending

Prince Seokjin's world is full of lies, but all of that starts changing when he meets rapper Yoongi.

i'd love to see me from your point of view by sweetbubble3 - Seokjin x Jungkook, 15 285 words, T - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Jungkook is ready to be the best spouse anyone could wish for, but for Seokjin, it's nothing but a marriage of convenience

the perfect bite by wispyoongi - Yoongi x Hoseok x Namjoon, 82 842, E - Chef Yoongi, Grief, Healing, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Pining

After an unexpected death in his family, Yoongi moves back to Korea after ten years to take over his brother's restaurant. There, he finds the love of his life, the boy who broke his heart, dating another man.

BONUS - Hoseok x Jungkook Twitter AU - 35 parts, Cooking Reality Show AU, Sweet and Funny

#fic recs #bts fic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #yoongi fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #poly fic #namgi fic #namjoon x yoongi #seokjin x namjoon x jungkook #omega namjoon #yoongi x hoseok x jungkook #seokjin x hoseok x jungkook #yoonjin fic #seokjin x yoongi #secret relationship #fake dating #jinkook fic #seokjin x jungkook #arranged marriage #namgiseok fic #yoongi x hoseok x namjoon #hopekook fic #hoseok x jungkook #bts social media au #twt au #bts

[lilprincegoo]

The one with dom Jeongguk (but not really) by ggukkiebaby

jimin/taehyung/jungkook

jungkook-cetric

Threesome - M/M/M, Dom/sub, Dom Park Jimin (BTS), Sub Kim Taehyung | V, Sub Jeon Jungkook, jungkook tries to be a dom, Praise Kink, Aftercare, No Aftercare, but they don't realise he needs it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Under-negotiated Kink, under negotiated bdsm

9.6k words

rating: E

He just doesn’t get it. Why does he have to take charge? Why is he the one who needs to look after the other? Why can’t he lose himself like he wants to; succumb to the overwhelming urge to submit; to drown himself and let somebody else pull him back to the surface, simply because he doesn’t want to do it himself? Why can Taehyung do that, and not him? Or, Vmin think Jeongguk is a dom (He isn't)

#ship: vminkook #jimin/taehyung/jungkook #ship: ot3 #ship: poly #jungkook-centric #d/s dynamic #dom jimin #sub taehyung #sub jungkook #angst #hurt/comfort #miscommunication #aftercare #jungkook ship #taehyung ship #jimin ship #ao3 #bts ficrec #bts fic rec #established relationship

[enbydindjarin]

Your camera roll if you were dating Layla and the moon boys 🥰

(Last one by @ozarkthedog)

#oscar isaac #may calamawy #moonknight bts #moonknight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #layla el fouly #they make my poly heart go brrrr #poly relationship

[ze-eternalmarsh]

Name: Min Yoongi, or the demon in progress

Ship: ot7, Yoongi/everyone - BTS

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Wordcount: 36,026k

Type: Long fic [discontinued!!]

Tags: demon au, seven deadly sins, retail worker yoongi, eventual relationship, crack, fluff, smut, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, polyamory, hurt/comfort, feelings, depressed!min yoongi

Summary:

Retail worker Yoongi has seen so much shit in his job that he doesn't give a fuck when demons start showing up and try to scare him. However, it becomes a problem for him when 6 demons representing 6 of the deadly sins, invite themselves in his house to ask him to become the last missing sin.

Or the story of how sometimes demons can help you with your depression while simultaneously trying to corrupt your soul.

[Based on these two iconic ideas that I used for my university creative writing class as a play LOL! This fic is old, but I'm posting all my works ig! This one is for registered users only.]

#ao3 tags #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #bts ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #ot7 #polyamory #bts ot7 #bts poly au #demon au #strangers to lovers #friends to lovers #smut #soft #fluff #angst #eventual relationship #discontinued #bts namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #bts seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #bts jin fanfic #jin fic

[bangtanbapple]

Untitled Namjin AU (fake rivals) By namjintellect (twitter)

Author description: in which idols seokjin and namjoon are proclaimed rivals as a marketing stunt by their companies but when has jin ever followed his company's rule?

Group: BTS Main ship: Namjin Other ships: Vminkook Chapters: 107 (Complete)

#bts fic rec #bts smau #posted on twitter #complete #namjinau #mainnamjin #vminkookau #famous #both are famous #famous!namjoon #famous!seokjin #idol!namjoon #idol!seokjin #secret relationship trope #poly relationship #poly!taehyung #poly!jimin #poly!jungkook

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the reckless

— summary: in the face of danger, you run right into it

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 4.7k

— warnings: slight violence

— PART 24 / previous post / masterpost

It’s about one in the morning when you sneak out of the room with gentle steps, making sure to not wake the one who sleeps on the armchair beside the bed, his soft little snores still heard until his presence disappears with the closed door.

The hallways are as silent as it was back in the room, the only thing heard is the sounds of your footsteps echoing through, and as you close your shawl closer to your body, you look around to make your way to the familiar steps that lead outside where the greenhouse stands.

The doors are left unlocked so you let yourself in and step through the glass doors, closing your eyes for a moment to breathe in the scent of the greens all around you.

It’s during lonely moments like this you feel your heart craving for some sort of familiarity. Not just the presence of your Reapers but for the presence of your manor itself.

For years you spent hating that place more than anything because that was where everything happened; where you were born, where you grew up, watching your mother hating you with every fiber left in her, chasing after your father’s attention, shedding tears on top of gentle shoulders, trapped behind the steel door of a white room, training, meeting good people, meeting bad people, everything.

Everything.

You can’t recall when the feeling of dread and disdain turned to eyes seeking for it, feet yearning to step back into it. Maybe it was the moment your father died, when the dynasty he worked so hard to build broke down into pieces like a house of cards, when you took over and made it into the home that it is now starting to feel like.

You returned to it after Leehyun, locking yourself in the comfort of your room, knowing that if you were to step outside, your Reapers would be right there with the smallest calling of their names. It served as your escape when it used to be the very reason you hated your existence.

The manor has become home and perhaps the only reason it’s able to be such a thing is because of what you’ve built it to be.

You want to escape, to return to it and simply hide in it and have no one bother you until you’re ready to step out yourself.

On the bench where Alexander sat this morning, you take your seat and close your eyes, trying to manipulate your mind into thinking you aren’t in Norway, that you’re back in Seoul, back at the manor, and not somewhere far, far away.

It’s exhausting doing this, your revenge plan. It’s exhausting having to put up a front, exhausting having to freeze up and recall unwanted memories that you wish could bury forever in the back of your mind.

But buried memories can’t always stay buried. They return, eventually, in time, whether you’re prepared or not.

You can’t tell how much time has passed but when you feel something against your feet accompanied by small little pants, you open your eyes to find the little puppy that accepted you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

You look down at him and he returns your gaze with a tilt in his head, tail wagging, and swirls about in a circle once before using his nose to poke at your leg again. He reminds you of the children at The Academy, how they’ve never been scared of you despite wanting to always push them away with your cold demeanor. It’s like Kiwi sees right through you, just like them, and in your silence, you pick up the small little thing to bring him onto your lap.

His tail wags a little more and when you run your hand through his fur, he gets a little more excited and affectionate.

Besides the children, there’s someone else you see in him.

“You remind me of someone,” you say as he nuzzles into the feeling of your palm. “Though unlike you, he wasn’t too fond of me in the beginning. It took some time for him to warm up but once he got to that point, he wouldn’t stop following me around.”

You fall silent again, thinking, remembering, reminiscing, and your fingers stop playing around with the little puppy on your lap.

The memories aren’t as hazy as they used to be, they’re a little clearer, a little closer to home. You can feel it in your heart when something feels like it’s just stabbed it, and in your stomach when you feel a little drop.

“I’m sorry for being selfish,” a voice whispers into your ear. “I’m sorry for only ever thinking about myself.”

But the thing about that is, you cannot be sorry for something that is within your nature, you cannot be sorry for wanting to put yourself first in a cruel, cruel world. When everything feels wrong, when the world feels like it’s always against you, when you do not know who to put your trust in.

If you were a little more mature and a little more brave, would you have been able to tell him the things you want to say now?

Things like; it wasn’t your fault. Things like; it’s alright, and you’re okay, and rest well.

Rest well, rest well, rest well.

You lean your head forward to the sky, gaze closed, as if hoping the things you spoke within your heart could be heard from him wherever he stays.

And as the silence continues, you feel your consciousness eventually slip away as your shoulders loosen their tensions with the feel of the little puppy resting well in your lap.

You didn’t realize it, that you had fallen asleep, but you know yourself waking when you feel a presence closing in and immediately opening your eyes to meet the old man who has a blanket hovered before you, his eyes falling a little surprised because he hadn’t expected you to wake up so easily.

“It’s good to put your guard down a little, you know,” Alexander says with a small chuckle as you accept the blanket to drape it behind you.

“I’ve learned my lesson with that,” you answer him and scoot over to the edge of the bench in order to make room for him.

He takes his seat beside you though leaves enough space in between and you’re thankful this man is observant. Kiwi’s awake but remains quiet and still, head resting against his paws with his tail swaying side to side.

“Do you have anyone you can trust in this world?” Alexander crosses a leg over the other and you look at your watch to see that it’s about four in the morning.

You managed to sleep in an unfamiliar place while knowing there weren’t any Reapers that could come to you at any second. How odd.

“There are always chances someone can stab you in the back.” Maybe the presence of Kiwi helped you. “It’s never a good idea to put your full trust in anyone.”

“You say that but one day you might come to know it feels rather nice putting unconditional faith in someone.”

You shake your head, brows furrowing. “Even if that someone has a good heart and good intentions, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”

There’s only been one person you know you can truly trust but he’s gone from this world, only ever being able to see him again when he wishes to visit you in your dreams. He’s the only person you’d ever allow to hurt you over and over again, even if it isn’t the real version of him.

Mister Butler can hate you and betray you but you’d let him do it again and again and maybe that’s because in your heart, you know those versions that the nightmares give you are simply from your own imagination and that he’d never truly come to hate you. He’s incapable of betraying your trust. Someone like him, who stayed by your side when he didn’t have to, isn’t a man who can have his heart easily swayed into hating you.

“Are you tired of betrayal?”

“I’m tired of everything,” you admit and he looks at you up and down, eyes narrowing slightly.

“And yet here you are, out in Norway.” Alexander knows a thing or two, he isn’t dumb, and you aren’t someone to think otherwise. He wouldn’t be in the position he is now if he was, and you don’t deny what he implies in his words. “You run straight into the very things that make you tired.”

“Because it is the only way I can feel alive.” You look on straight ahead before you, watching the pretty sky that pokes out from behind the plants of the greenhouse. “Otherwise I’d be in my room, rotting away. There is no purpose in running away, there is no purpose in leaving things be. My father did not leave this world for me to simply carry on as if he never existed.”

Some may take that as you carrying on your father’s legacy and whatever Alexander is thinking, you don’t care too much for it because all it matters is what you know. You didn’t kill your father just to stay silent for the rest of your life. His death was the beginning of everything.

Your turning point.

“And no one can stop a mind that’s already been made up.” Alexander nods, understanding, and doesn’t push for answers, but perhaps in the back of his mind, he’s a little curious about you and your goals and aspirations in this life. What drives you, what made you into the sort of person you are today, but Alexander is wise unlike many old men you’ve met throughout your life, so he doesn’t question things beyond your boundary.

And so he diverts the subject once again, turning it to the puppy in your lap.

“Perhaps you should adopt a pet of your own, to help you ease your mind a little,” he tells you with a fond gaze at Kiwi. “Humans can be quite disappointing, but a loyal pet will stay loyal for the rest of its life. Not to mention they’re the greatest comfort when someone needs it.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you should turn to a dog rather than humans in your time of need. Humans are disappointing creatures after all. But, “It’s too much of a hassle,” you say. “I can’t even take care of my own self properly, it’d be unwise of me to try and take care of another being.”

“...Is that so?”

It becomes a daily occurrence; the talks in the greenhouse, and soon you come to realize that Alexander isn’t one to let just anyone into his greenhouse. The doors that are usually locked during hours when one should be asleep are kept open, and perhaps that’s because he’s come to realize that you don’t sleep a lot, at least not in the house of a stranger, so he leaves them open for you to visit when you need your space.

And in the morning, around four or five AM when he awakens, he’ll come along and strike up a conversation and the two of you will speak about the things he brings up. Things like Seoul and of the Reaper gang, sometimes he’ll ask of Master Kitagawa, other times he’ll ask how far your skills go.

You speak to him in vague terms, careful not to tell him everything, but he comes to know that you were an only child, married once in an arranged marriage, but divorced. He doesn’t seem too surprised by that fact probably because everyone knows this happens all the time.

And in him knowing a little more about you, you come to know a little more about him as well.

Like when Kiwi came into his life and the fact that he’s had other pets throughout his lifetimes before but they’ve all died and left him.

You asked him why he continues adopting pets when he knows they don’t live as long as humans do, why he hurts himself over and over again, but he simply smiles and says that sometimes being able to love is better than being lonely. That it doesn’t matter how many times he has to watch them die and that he’d never regret loving them.

Alexander believes in reincarnation, that the souls of his first puppy dies and returns in the form of the other pets he’s had, so he’s never truly lonely, and something about that, believing in such a thing, though it sounds a bit absurd, is a little bit beautiful in its own way.

If you could believe Mister Butler died and returned through someone else, it’d be a nice delusion to live in, and despite the fact that there have been one or two guys that have reminded you of him, the truth is, no one can ever be Mister Butler.

Not Hoseok. Not Mingyu.

Because Mister Butler is like family. He was. 

Through your marriage with Namjoon, he was your older brother, but he always felt closer to a father figure to you, and perhaps that’s because your father was never there for you. Mingyu is closer to an older brother. A companion. A friend.

And Hoseok?

The one that got away.

The right person at the wrong time.

And because of that fact, you don’t allow yourself to be near him for too long, hence denying his companionship when Jungkook told you it’d probably be better if Hoseok were standing guard at your side rather than him.

It’s true, Hoseok would be better. You wouldn’t be as cautious towards him as you are of Jungkook, but it’s that exact reason that you cannot let him near.

You cannot let him shake your core, so you endure what you can and let Jungkook stay near you despite the constant reminder of what he did all those years ago.

It’s not entirely his fault but as you’ve said, it doesn’t hurt any less.

In your time getting closer to Alexander, he’s refused the appearance of Karl several times. Asher says if he has to, his grandfather will meet him elsewhere. Just not in the house. The guy has come to guess that you’re here because of Karl, and if he’s guessed it, maybe Alexander has too.

Though the old man never brings it up despite the plenty of chances during your greenhouse talks.

“Any progress?”

Dawn remains in the sky as ever and while Jungkook sleeps, you sit on the windowsill to take a call from the other side of the world. It’s a bit chilly to head out today so you stay indoors this time, making sure to keep your voice low.

“Plenty. It’s been quite peaceful these days, it feels a bit out of place.” Alexander’s kindness wasn’t something you expected the first day you walked into Norway. You expected things to be harder after meeting Asher but surprisingly, things are quite…easy, to say the least. “I have a feeling it won’t last too long.”

“No?” Namjoon sounds a little confused on his end. “Why do you say that? Should we come over earlier than planned?”

“No, don’t do that. Come as scheduled,” you say and look away from the window to the man who’s moved from sleeping on the armchair to the bed. It took some time to convince him initially but eventually Jungkook agreed to take the bed since you don’t really sleep anyway.

“You have something planned, don’t you?” There’s some suspicion in his voice and you want to laugh a little at how things are right now.

Who would have thought you’d be back on speaking terms with the man you thought you’d push away for good? But here he is, back and ready to give you his trust. You don’t know if he’s smart or stupid or both. Maybe there’s a bit of both, but it probably took some time for him to consider it, being as the whole thing was about his brother whom he loves very dearly.

Namjoon’s finally using his head.

Though you aren’t too sure if you like it so much.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t know if I can trust those words so easily. The last time you left the country, you disregarded your life just for that plan of yours.”

“Listen.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

There’s a pause on his end before he speaks again. “You didn’t assure me that you won’t do something reckless,” he notes and you internally click your tongue, “which means that feeling of the peace not lasting for long is you actively causing that to happen.” When you don’t respond, he goes on. “Will you stop being so secretive and let me know what you’re thinking? Maybe then you won’t be in the same position you were with Leehyun, and me and my boys and the Reapers will know how to help you.”

Well.

“You can’t keep hiding, Y/N. Stop being so reckless, you’re too reckless.”

“Watch me.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

“No?”

Another sigh and he knows he can’t win. “Just…if you decide it’s better for me to go over sooner rather than later, let me know. I’ll be waiting. Right here, just a phone call away.”

“...Sure.”

You don’t think too much about it. You don’t want to think too much about it. 

So when the cloud gives way to the sun and it shines higher in the sky, you finally take up Karl’s request to have tea and catch up, deciding you shouldn’t keep running away from what you’re trying to face.

You have Yeonjun stay by your side this time, rather than Jungkook, in case Karl says something out of line and Jungkook will hear more things than you want him to. You stay in the garden of Alexander’s mansion, keeping a little distance away from the building itself, and with the feel of eyes from a window behind you, the conversation begins.

“I remember him,” Karl points at your escort when he takes his first sip of the tea. “Jun? Joon?” Yeonjun doesn’t make an effort to fix him and simply remains quiet. “Right, never one to talk but always by your side.” His eyes settle back on you, a small glint of mirth in them. “You have quite the loyal companion.”

“Yes..I do.” You ignore his gaze to take a sip of your own tea, keeping your replies short.

“I’m still a bit hurt you didn’t reach out to me about your father’s death. We were good friends, you knew that.”

Of course you did. “I apologize, it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?” He raises a brow, unconvinced. “Hmm…and here I thought, I left a good impression in those four months I stayed in Seoul.”

You did. 

You did indeed leave an impression that will last a lifetime.

“Maybe I should have tried harder?”

That mirth in his eyes. Again.

You want to punch him.

“How did he die though? The man I knew isn’t someone who would have easily died and he would have updated me about his health had he fallen ill.”

“He was betrayed,” you say, not batting an eye, and Karl puts his cup down after hearing that.

His eyes are blown out. “Your father? Betrayed? And he didn’t see that coming?”

“They were smart.”

“Even still..” He can’t believe it, though you don’t blame him too much. The father you both know is not someone who’s easily trusting of others, therefore he’s always right there to pick out someone who will betray him before they can execute their plan. 

That’s why it took so long to manipulate him into believing you were a daughter full on worshiping his ground without an ounce of betrayal in your veins. That’s why your masterful plan took so long. You had to convince your father into believing he had won in manipulating you to his side when all along, you had been waiting to stab him in the back. Facing a man like him, smart, calculating, a manipulating gaslighter who thinks the world centers around him requires more than just simple brains and planning.

It took years to execute your plans and even then you feel like you could have done better with everything. For one, not letting anyone see what had happened, aka Bangtan. But what’s done is done. Dwelling on past mistakes is just stupid and a waste of time.

“And what about you?” When Karl points the finger at you, his gaze narrows, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re his daughter, his perfect little doll. You didn’t see that someone was plotting your father’s death? Is it not your job to protect him?”

“That’s right,” you give him nothing to fight against, just simply accepting the accusations placed upon you. “I failed in protecting him. I am an incompetent daughter who should have done better.”

Karl stands up, running a hand through his hair. “Your father did all that he could for you and still, you–” 

When he looks at you again and meets the gaze you send him, his word stops mid-sentence. Your stare isn’t threatening, it isn’t a glare, nor one that is meant to scare him off, yet something in them lies a hidden threat either way, were he to continue speaking. Karl, seeing that, lets out a chuckle and he closes in on you, patting you on the shoulder before simply leaving his hand there.

You look at it for a second before giving him the attention he wants as he leans in, nose inches away from you.

“Your father created you into the weapon that you are today, my dear little Y/N, and you’ve even been trained under Kitagawa, so why is it that you failed to protect him? Huh? Tell me.”

From the corner of your eye, Yeonjun moves slightly closer, though he keeps his distance and doesn’t dare to make a move unless you instruct him otherwise.

The breath against your face, the touch of skin burning through the thin cloth of your dress, the sides of your knees meeting one another, back straightening up, heels rising from the ground, fingers intertwined into each other, sitting on your lap.

You keep your eyes open, meeting his gaze, but internally you’re counting in your head and holding your breath, hearing the beat of your heart that might as well rip through your rib cages and past the barrier of your skin to physically beat widely before Karl himself.

Maybe he hears it, maybe he can feel it, but whether he does or not, he has no will to move away from you and you know Karl, he isn’t dumb. He knows exactly the effect he has on you right now. He saw it, knows just how you felt all those weeks ago when you were in the living room and he touched you.

He knows and doesn’t care one bit.

Just as he was all those years ago.

They never change.

“What is it that you want from me, Karl?” He doesn’t fix you into calling him uncle this time. “Do you want me to repent on my knees and beg for forgiveness? My father’s already six feet underground, it’s not as if he’ll hear me now, but as his close friend, if you wish for me to do just that, I will. Just for you.”

There’s malice in his eyes, a scoff that leaves him when he watches you, and finally, he moves back. Just a little. “You’ve gotten quite bold, haven’t you? Now that your father isn’t here to teach you a lesson.”

“And if I have? What will you do about it?” You push back, leaning forward, challenging him despite your body screaming at you to run away. “Go ahead and do whatever you’d like with me, there’s no one here right now that can stop you. I can tell Yeonjun to pluck his eyes out right now and he’ll do just that. He won’t say a word and he won’t move unless I tell him otherwise.”

At the mention of the boy, Karl looks over between you and him, and then something in him lights up slightly as if he’d just remembered something. As if he’d just realized something.

“That’s right...what loyal companions…” He steps back, releasing your shoulder, and tilts his head back as he laughs obnoxiously. “Is this all about that little boy I messed with? Him?” The laugh rings a little louder, a little more crazed. “You pretend you’re so cold and have no feelings and yet here you are, chasing after me all the way from Seoul, just for a boy, the second you got the chance. If your father were still here, he wouldn’t have let that happen, but now that he’s gone…-”

He pauses again, and after hurling over laughing, stands back up straight again as the laugh dies all too abruptly. So you stand up from your seat, the corner of your lip curling over as you notice just why he’s gone silent.

By now the tea is slowly getting cold but you don’t care much for it as you stand tall, hands held together before you in a formal manner.

“The person who betrayed him…” His eyes narrow. “Who was it?”

“Oh uncle,” you mock that title, mirth in your eyes, “I think you know exactly where that answer lies.”

Danger.

Something screams danger when his gaze darkens in realization.

And yet you seem to only be attracted to danger as it is the only thing you’ve ever gotten used to seeing every day. The danger of being born as a mafia heir, married to a mafia powerhouse, spiraled into a hellhole you cannot ever seem to escape so you run towards it.

Directly into the fire.

Into the danger.

Provoking your enemies, knowing exactly just what their reactions will be, because danger seems to be the one thing in your life that will never leave and abandon you out of nowhere. The only thing you can forever trust to catch you were you to fall blindly into it.

And blindly you fall, trusting it to come.

And comes it goes, directly your way.

Never disappointing.

Never disappointing.

Namjoon called you reckless and for the first time in forever, you might have to agree with him. Because being reckless means not caring for the consequences to come after committing a rash action. The reckless ones do not care what happens to them, they live off adrenaline, they run towards the fire when everyone else runs away.

Towards the danger despite knowing there will always be a chance they may not survive. Unheeding, stubborn, thoughtless, careless, negligent, imprudent. Unwise, unwary, incautious, hasty.

A fool.

A fool.

A fool.

But misguided and left on their own. Lonely, abandoned, hurt, isolated, rejected, forsaken. An outcast and unloved, a disappointment and broken.

Broken.

A broken little soul whose heart lies empty with a hole pierced through the middle.

You are reckless. You are broken.

And broken things do not know how to save themselves, they only know the warmth of the fire. That is the only thing they can rely on.

So you stay within his vicinity, within Karl’s reach, watching, simply standing there, keeping still, as if keeping vigil. Like you’re just waiting, just expecting for something, anything, the inevitable, to happen. And when it comes in the form of a harsh, harsh slap across the face that has your body turning over to the side and having to hold onto the table to keep your balance, you can’t even say that you are surprised.

It feels like being in the presence of your father all over again, in the face of danger, of a manipulator, of a gaslighter, of an abuser.

He returns hard and so vividly in the form of anger, in the form of a ghost, a spirit whom you see standing right behind Karl. He stands as still as ever, hands held behind his back, simply watching.

Watching.

While you stand before him in front of a man he’s using to command orders over him. Using violence through others because father never raises his hands, father never puts in the effort or strength or power into physical forms. He does it through others, he commands through others, he hurts through others.

Watching until he’s satisfied.

But he’s never satisfied. He’s never satisfied.

And on your end, you can do nothing but accept it all willingly.

There is nothing else you can do, there is nothing else that can be done. It is like being in his presence all over again. Yeonjun, the Reapers behind you, standing still, told to not do a thing, to not move an inch, and your father behind the violence, keeping silent with a deadly gaze.

You return to the past.

You see him.

He’s right there.

And Karl raises his hand again.

#bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts polyamorous #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts mafia au #mafia!bts #bts mafia #bts mafia!au #bts poly!au #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts poly relationship #bts arranged marriage au #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[angel-fic-recs]

i am contagious - ienveeus

Min Yoongi x Jung Hoseok x Kim Namjoon (Namgiseok)

Side Jeon Jungkook x Park Jimin (Jikook)

Rated : E

Wordcount : 40k (multi-chaptered)

Genre : Angst | Dystopia

WARNING : GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

Description : he peers into the chaos, searching for an answer. yoongi’s still struggling at the forest-line. he escapes for a moment before an Other tackles him to the ground. a surge of panic rushes over namjoon. there’s too much going on, people everywhere, violence, blood, death. and in the middle of it all: hoseok. --- in which namjoon is a pacifist in a world that's trying to bleed him dry

Angel's review : A great story about trust, forgiveness, violence and pacifism. I admire Namjoon's principles, morals and values in this fanfiction. The worldbuilding was really well-done and immersive. I am also gald that Hoseok is the key of the plot and the center of it. Everything evolves around him. It was epic and emotional, full of suspense, adventure and bravery. The plot was much more important than the romance (though the latter is still very much present and is one of the greatest elements to the plot). Namjoon is a hero, trying to save and protect everyone he loves and for that you should read this !

Link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392797

#fanfic rec #poly #namgiseok #jikook #rated e #ao3 #mind the tags #graphic depictions of violence #angst #dystopia au #angst with a happy ending #post-relationship #smut #implied/referenced torture #implied/reference character death #pacifism #wordcount : 40 60k #multi chaptered #angel-fic-recs #bts

[wolvesvrse]

yeoubi

Taehyung was a reckless Crown Prince and prayed to the Gods, which lead to him being in this situation in the first place. The prayer to the Gods was answered in two weird ways: Good weird way - by being bestowed the gift of foresight Bad weird way - his wolf thinks he has a mate when he doesn't

At the peak of the war, Omega Crown Prince Taehyung abdicates the throne and leaves to meet his childhood friend and love, Alpha King Jeongguk, after having a vision of him being mates with not one wolf, but a pack. Keeping his blessing, his foresight, a secret is difficult when the pack doubts his intentions. Taehyung lies about the reason to visit Jeongguk. The pack wants to pursue a romantic relationship with their newfound mate and Taehyung feels guilty about lying to everyone and settles to have a platonic relationship with the pack. When situations keep arising against Taehyung, he is pushed to a corner and forced to confront his feelings and secrets. Will the relationship based on secrets thrive or will it wither into nothingness? The war looming on the horizon does not help and everyone suffers.

#bts #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #yoongi #seokjin #namjoon #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts jhope #bts yoongi #bts seokjin #bts namjoon #bts fic #yeoubi #polyamory #poly relationship

[bts-0t-7]

BTS | OT7 | FIC RECS

Hi guys, it's been a while since I've posted. Exams are finished and I'm starting to write again so I can't wait to share the works that I've collated over the past few months!

But this post isn't about any upcoming works. It's about loving and supporting our fellow writers. In the next few upcoming posts, I've collated fics that I really liked and I hope you'll enjoy them as much! Don't forget to support the writers and artists as well. Whether it is to leave a like, a comment, or follow them, I know they'll appreciate hearing from you.

Some of the fics below contain smut, so read the labels before clicking. If there are any fics that you guys would like to recommend, I would love to hear them as well! 😃

Little do you know, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, angst, smut, playmate au, idol au, ot7 x reader, poly relationship)

Moonchild, @yoongiofmine (fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, ABO, werewolf au)

Emerald Gem, @sweetlyskz (Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, Ot7 x reader)

Unnatural Instincts, @bangtanflirt (angst, fluff, smut, OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids)

Snow Angel, @daichiduskdrop (A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers, Ot7 x reader)

Lone Wolf, @sopebubbles (a/b/o, omegaverse, angst, hurt/comfort, poly ot7 x reader)

The Sanguis Duology, @boratha (Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Hurt and Comfort, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU, Polyamory!AU)

Abundance, @angelicyoongie (hybrid au, enemies to lovers/strangers to lovers, ot7 x female reader)

Caramel, @blue-and-grey-army (BTS, Idol AU, poly au, BTS x reader, OT7, OT7 x reader, Idol BTS, Dom BTS, sub reader, angst, fluff, eventual smut)

Cry me a river, @minniepetals (angst, slight fluff, poly ot7xreader, mafa au, poly au, arranged marriage au)

Boyfriend for hire, @remedyx (bts ot7 x reader, angst, fluff, smut, poly au, relationship for convenience, strangers to lovers, long crush, slow burn)

7 hybrids moved in with me, @lillsisamarshmallow (Hybrid!Poly!BTS x Reader, Slight Swearing, Homelessness, Mentions of Violence, Blood, Fluff)

#fic recs #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts fanfics #bts series #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x you

[lilprincegoo]

how galaxies collide by achillvs

ot3

jimin/taehyung/jungkook

Asexual Jeon Jungkook, Demisexual Kim Taehyung, basically jeongguk tries sex for the first time and hates it, Cuddling, Hugs, Non-Explicit Sex, Panic Attacks, jeongguk cries what a surprise, Internalized Acephobia, Hurt/Comfort

3.5k words

rating: M

“I want to have sex with you.” Jeongguk doesn’t mean to blurt it out at dinner, but it’s something he’s been thinking about it for weeks. He can’t get it out of his head. What does it feel like, to be that close to someone? Sure, he doesn’t feel attracted to anyone in a sexual way, but he’s always wondered what sex feels like. (There’s also a little voice in the back of his mind, saying what if you like it? What if you're a fraud?) or, Jeongguk has sex with his boyfriends for the first time. It doesn't go well, but Taehyung and Yoongi remind him just how loved he is.

#ship: ot3 #ship: vminkook #jimin/jungkook/taehyung #asexuality #ace jungkook #demisexuality #demisexual taehyung #hurt/comfort #established relationship #ship: poly #jungkook ship #jungkook-centric #taehyung ship #jimin ship #ao3 #bts ficrec #bts fic rec

[raethye]

Coffee With My Sunshine by raethye

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Hoseok x Namjoon x Seokjin x Yoongi

Length:  20.8K, complete

Tags: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Namjoon | RM, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Min Yoongi | Suga, Mang (BT21), Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Witch Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Familiars, Supernatural Elements, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Light Angst ,Courting Rituals, Aphrodisiacs, Love Potion/Spell, Idiots in Love, Magic, Witchcraft, Cute, Pining, Crushes, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Explicit Sexual Content

Jung Hoseok, green witch and owner of Sunflowers, kinda wants to cry a little bit when his three favorite regulars ask him for some magical help confessing. To someone else. Only... why do they keep coming back to his shop to flirt? And ask for dates? And steal kisses?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614991

#my writing #bts #ao3 #romance #bts fanfic #fanfiction #poly relationship #polyamory #contemporary fantasy #magic au #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #mang #written for a prompt #ao3_raethye