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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 5 months

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What if... you decided to run away? part three | OT7 BTS au

A very belated update starring my soulmate @shadowofahope and some angst. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, betrayal, injury, a mentally deranged villain, and bts hurting. 6.3K words

Two options presented themselves to Min Yoongi as he watched you happily having breakfast with the others. He could tell you and this whole dream would be shattered, or he could bury it, and they could all live happily ever after. He was deluding himself he knew it, it wasn’t a question of if you’d find out, it was a matter of when. He also knew, if he wasn’t the one to tell you, you’d never forgive him.

Still with knowing this, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he looks at you, his throat seized. All his instincts wanted to do was keep him from breaking the mirage of everything he wanted, and that’s what he would be doing. Call him a coward, like Namjoon was doing with his gaze eating into the side of Yoongi’s face, but to keep that smile on your face, he’d be anything to keep dreaming.

“Hyung, Princess is sleeping next to us tonight,” Jungkook stares down the Prince with the most serious glare he can muster before he sits down for his serving of pancakes. Jimin and Taehyung nodding furiously on either side of him, imploring with their eyes that you both agree.

The idea of you not being in his arms as he slept made an uncomfortable itch manifest under his skin, akin to anxiety but more volatile. He keeps himself from scratching, nodding quietly in agreement as he plays with his food. He can feel the surprise in the room, Jin and Hobi looking at each other in shock. Even you nearly choked on the orange juice, whipping your head round to inspect the silent prince.

He tried to keep his features neutral, knowing you could read him like a book. Your reassuring palm on his thigh lets him know you can see through him, that light squeeze trying to coax him to look at you, but he’s too afraid to. If he faces you he would have to face Namjoon too, and right now, he couldn’t deal with either of you.

“Yoongi?” Your voice is so understanding and soft, the disgust he had in himself he could feel rise like bile in his throat at the sound.

“I don’t like it Jagi,” he tries to smile, trying to meet your eyes. “But you’re right I have to share.”

He excuses himself, unable to stand lying to you about his current predicament, Namjoon’s eyes following him every step of the way. You’re about to follow after him but the taller individual beats you to it, telling you to stay.

The remaining men look between themselves, questioning each other silently before you verbalise their thoughts.

“Did someone say something to him?” You wince at the accusation in your own words.

“We’ve been saying something to him since we landed Princess,” Jimin deadpans, eyes narrowing at you as you defend the greedy prince.

“Look I know he’s been… unreasonable lately, but you know him,” you didn’t want to talk about Yoongi’s vulnerabilities, but the suggestion was clear in your tone. “He doesn’t mean to be-” you hesitate, trying to find the right word.

“An asshole?” Jin suggests, making Jungkook snicker at the language. “We know Princess, but I think he’s forgetting the fact we nearly lost you too.”

“Of course you’re going to defend your prince over your knights in shining armour,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, his fork hitting the plate harshly as he picks up a piece of pancake.

You press your lips together to hold back the laugh, Jin and Jimin mirroring your expression.

—

You knock on the door again, the fifth time, but still no response. It had been a week since you last saw her and now you were worried something was wrong. You frown, there were only so many places you could be on this island and when the weather was scorching like today, the only place was home. So why was your new friend not answering the door?

“Nym?” You call out again, but not a whisper greets you back.

You sigh, sweat starting to drip from your scalp to your face. You turn back to your place, telling yourself you’d try again later.

The heat of the sun cooked the top of your head, you curse yourself for not bringing out a hat or parasol or something. As beautiful as this piece of heaven was, you were not acclimated to it.

You try not to run back to the villa to escape the heat, ready for a cool drink as you reach the front step.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi almost yells in his panic when you walk through the door making you jump.

“Hey,” you frown, hand on your chest to slow your startled heart. “What’s wrong?”

He composes himself at that question, as if he wasn’t aware of his demeanour until you called it out, like he forgot himself for a moment.

“Nothing,” he mutters, walking away with his head hanging low in guilt.

What the heck was that?

“Yoongi?” You call after him, knowing he wanted to be alone but not wanting to leave him with the thoughts drowning him. You follow him into his room, staring in worry when he sits on the bed and hangs his head into his hands.

“Baby?” you ask, heart thumping uncontrollably as your mind races. “Yoongi what’s wrong?”

You’re scared to approach him, depending on his disposition he didn’t always welcome physical comfort when he felt vulnerable. Whatever cloud was thundering above him had his shoulders slumped, you couldn't see his eyes, couldn’t read his expression.

“Yoongi say something,” you beg, still standing by the door. “You’ve been acting weird all week, please say something.”

He sniffs, lifting his head, eyes full of water ready to spill. You stand in shock for a second, Yoongi wasn’t one to cry. You rush to him, holding him tight as he starts to sob, knowing he was unworthy of your comfort right now when he kept the worst secret from you.

“Jagi, tell me what's wrong please,” your own bottom lip wobbles, you hate seeing him upset, it kills you.

He shakes his head against you. You would never forgive him, he tries to get ahold of himself, pushing away from you as he wipes his face in his hands. The look of worry you give him breaks his heart. He takes your hand in his, trying to reassure you silently by stroking his thumb against your skin but he can’t meet your eyes.

He wants to thank you when you don’t push it, when you let it go for now, but the words are bitter and vile in his mouth and he doesn’t release them.

—

“Why are you guys making popcorn?” Namjoon asks when he enters the kitchen, Yoongi close behind him after another argument.

“We fixed the TV,” Jungkook says with a mouthful of snacks.

The prince becomes petrified with panic, he was the one to mess with the wiring so you wouldn’t have access to the outside world or the news. The fear that freezes him, suddenly jolts him out of shock, almost running to the living room where he finds you flicking through the channels. He doesn’t think before he snatches the remote out of your hand, turning the device off and gaining everyone’s questioning gaze.

“Yoongi?”

“Hyung, what are you doing?” Taehyung asks in disbelief, he just got comfortable for movie night.

He can’t say a word, his mind drawing blanks for an excuse.

“You’ve been acting weird all week,” Jin says.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Jimin looks at him as if he’s grown 2 extra heads.

“No tv,” he breathes, the panic not subsiding. Namjoon stands behind him, his cheeks sucked in as he watches the scene. He’s still angry from the fight with the prince, but he wasn't vindictive enough to throw him under the bus.

“Why?” Hoseok asks.

“He’s hiding something,” you finally speak after observing him, trying to take the remote back but he grips onto it like his life depends on it.

Jungkook had followed behind the two when they entered, moving towards the screen while you and Yoongi stared at each other. He uses the controls on the TV to turn it on, Yoongi’s face turning blank when he changes channel. It’s his worst luck that it revealed what he tried so desperately to hide.

You turn to the image of your father’s coffin being walked out of his castle, held up by 6 men as Baekhyun and Taeyeon walked behind it dressed in black. The words the newscaster was saying don’t even reach your ears, your face contorting from shock into pain.

“Jagi…”

You start hyperventilating, the others caught in stupor, unable to move. The king was dead, and they all had strong suspicions that Yoongi knew.

“Y/n let’s calm-“ Namjoon tries reaching for you but you snap away at his touch.

“Did you know?” He would take bullets right now than the look of fire on your face.

“Y/n-“

“Did. You. Know.”

But his face confesses for you where his words can’t. That’s all it takes for you to break down, falling to your knees with your arms around your head, whimpering not just at the loss of life, but the loss of trust.

“Jagi,” Yoongi tries again, his heart blaring fast in alarm.

“Don’t,” the strength in your voice is gone, but he knows not to say another word.

The tension turns thick, Jungkook mutes the news channel, but the footage of your father’s funeral still plays on the screen for them all to see. Minutes pass, no one daring to speak first. Jin glares at the prince, knowing what emotional turmoil he just put you through, how could he keep this from you? His gaze flickers to Namjoon with even more contempt.

“I have to go back,” you say more to yourself than them, coming to stand on wobbly legs, but your words cut through the silence for them all to hear.

“No,” the prince almost growls at the suggestion, but you look ready to tear him right back, looking like a wounded animal on edge, ready to do whatever to survive.

“You,” that one syllable held more venom than he had ever heard from you, finger pointed like a knife in accusation, “don’t get to decide for me, you don’t get to control me, y-you-“

You can’t help it, your words falter as you break down again, the corners of your sneer weighted down by grief, the bottom lip trembling as the fire in your eyes is drowned out by tears.

“You of all people know what it’s like to be controlled your whole life, and you tried to do that to me.”

Your words hit him, they do, like a truck to the chest, ploughing him down, but he can’t regret his actions, only your sorrow.

“If you go back,” he takes a step towards you. “We,” he points to himself and the rest of inhabitants in the room, “go back.”

He waits for the realisation to pass your eyes, and he knows it’s there as they soften on him for a moment.

“If we go back Jagi,” his voice cracks, hating himself for causing you this pain, but wanting you to listen to him. “We are dead men.”

“I can ex-“

“They won’t wait for an explanation Y/n!” He yells frustrated. “They’ll sentence us to death before we’re questioned, you know how it works! How it really works.”

Your lips quiver as you try to look strong, but everything inside of you is crushed. The hurt clawed its way through your body, reducing you to nothing.

“I should have married him,” you say quietly to yourself but the sincerity in your tone breaks their hearts. You regretted choosing them, choosing your freedom.

“And lived unhappily ever after?” Yoongi scoffs with disgust at the image of you and Wang at the altar.

“And this is better? Letting my country and my people fall into the hands of a psychopath? Be betrayed by men who I thought loved me enough not to lie to me?” you reply, staring despondently at nothing. “I was born with my duty and I have failed it.”

His red rimmed eyes can’t look at you.

“For what?” Your hoarse voice presses, hurting you all. “For something as trivial and fickle as love, the monarchy comes first and I have forgotten my place.”

“Please,” he begs, head hung low as every word you uttered, although right, killed him.

“My father was right.” It was like a final bullet, the harshest slap or ice bucket thrown over him.

You turn to Namjoon.

“If you didn’t love me, would you have let me escape?”

Both your minds go to the night he caught you, the night their feelings were revealed. He thinks it through, understanding his own duty. You stare in silence, his mind calculating, overthinking. There just wasn’t a world that existed in his mind where he didn’t love you, so how could he answer?

“I don’t know,” he confesses sincerely.

“I wish you didn’t,” you breathe. “My father might still be alive.”

“That’s not your fault,” Taehyung says but you shake your head.

What if he died because of you? Because you ran away? The guilt eats away at you, and you know if Yoongi and Namjoon were honest from the beginning you could have accepted it, could have leaned on them for emotional support but now you felt a rift between yourselves that ran too deep to fix. Yet despite that distance that now existed between you, you had no one else to turn to.

“I don’t know what to do,” you sob, looking to them all for guidance. It was ironic that you were now technically queen, and you had no clue, no power, nothing.

They stay silent, solemn as they look to the ground and avoid your gaze.

“Princess there’s nothing we can do,” Jin says softly, not wanting to upset you but unable to feed any fantasy you had of fixing this.

“I can’t leave my people to Taeyeon,”

Yoongi stands in front of you, his eyes piercing into yours, with an anger you couldn’t place.

“They’re not your people anymore,” he says harshly, “you abdicated, this isn’t your problem.”

“Hyung,” Jimin warns him gently, he was pushing it.

You search his eyes, wondering why he was trying to hurt you further, until you realise there was fear he was trying to hide with his wrath.

“You knew when you left, eventually Baekhyun and that psycho bitch would be next in line,” Yoongi continues, ignoring Jimin. “You don’t want that life Y/n.”

A knock on the door snaps everyone’s attention to the sound, the tension not broken but they’re grateful for the pause.

Your new friend enters cautiously, eyes wandering around the room at everyone’s sullen expressions and the endless stream of tears pouring down your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

“Nym, is everything okay?” Namjoon asks politely, not appreciating the disruption but knowing there wouldn’t be one without good reason.

“I… I did some digging,” Nym breathes nervously, wanting to bolt out of the room with the heaviness in the air but this was important. “The authorities already know something was unusual with the late king’s passing so-“

“You knew too?” The sting of betrayal had you interrupting before you could stop yourself. You were stuck on this island and you thought you could run to your friend’s place for help when the conversation was over but now you truly had nowhere to turn to. This paradise had turned into a prison, they weren’t going to let you leave.

Nym looks at you sadly, apologising silently hoping what was uncovered with a week of no sleep would earn your forgiveness.

“I thought hard about what I could do to help, and I think I have something.”

“What is it?” Hoseok asks.

“The authorities know there’s something odd about the King’s passing, but Prince Baekhyun and his wife closed any investigation, so I did some digging,” Nym explains, feeling the intensity of everyone’s stares, no one breathed. “I…”

She pauses, looking at you wondering whether it was right to just lay everything out on the table, but how can something so destructive be cushioned. Namjoon’s eyes glance towards the laptop in the computer genius’s arms.

“What did you find?” you barely whisper.

“She didn’t cover her tracks very well,” Nym replies, hesitating. “I don’t think you should see this.”

“Taehyung and Jimin, maybe your should take Y/n-”

“No,” you interrupt, the hell were they going to discuss this without you, that was what caused this fucking problem in the first place. “Show me.”

Your eyes don’t implore your friend, they demand authority and everyone in the room understands why you deserve your title, blood had nothing to do with it. The laptop is placed on the table, everyone’s eyes glued to the screen.

“The Imperial castle has two sets of security cameras, someone hacked into them to erase everything the night of your fathers death,” Nym explains. “It took a week but I recovered them.”

“How did he die?” Jin asks what you couldn't stomach asking.

“The official story is he mixed medication with alcohol and…” there's a pause for concern over your wellbeing, but you were done with walking around eggshells, they were all broken anyway.

“Say it,” you beg.

“He fell down the Castle stairs,” Nym says, watching your reaction cautiously, “there was a dent on his head that was unexplainable with the fall, but they think he might’ve bumped it on something given his state. They blamed the security camera malfunction on the storm.”

“And what actually happened?” Namjoon asks.

“Just play the footage Nym,” you say, it didn’t matter anyway, what was done was done, what you wanted was the truth.

After a deep breath, Nym presses play, the screen is grainy at first but clears. Your father comes into the frame, obviously heavily intoxicated with someone pushing him from behind. Whoever it was, wears a ski mask, looking around on edge. There’s a glint of metal in their hand that you can’t make out but it’s pressed against his back. After a stumble, he trips on the ground, and the masked figure tries to pull him up. They get into a tussle, your father grabbing the individual but only able to pull off the balaclava. Your breath catches as you recognise her, and now the object in her grasp. You jump when the pistol is slammed against his skull, and he’s pulled to his feet. He’s disorientated, clutching his head in his hands before he’s pushed to the stairs. You close your eyes, knowing what was about to happen, and you thought you could stomach it but you can’t. Arms wrap around you, someone strokes your hair. You bury your head into his chest, knowing it was Taehyung who had come to comfort you from the most abhorrent scene you ever had to witness.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Nym says sincerely as you muffle your cries.

—

They sit in silence once Nym leaves, the hours tick by with you sitting on the ottoman alone, too quiet, too stoic, too deep in thought. No one dares to break it first, no one dares to move, scared that the already fragile state of your being could shatter more than it already had. There was no coming back from this, that was the fear, no recovering.

The footage would be released with your permission, it would solve the issue of letting the psychopath sit in your throne, and yet there was another fear in the room. The proof of your father’s murder didn’t solve everything.

“I’m going back,” you say calmly.

“But-“

“You’re not coming with me,” you don’t mean it in a cruel way but it still breaks their hearts. “I have a role I was born to serve, a people who need a queen they can trust, not some relative who thought they were safe from ever having to wear the crown.”

“But we’re happy here,” Jimin says with wobbling lips, eyes and nose streaming.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Jungkook cries.

“Because for right or wrong reasons, the government will still have you tried for concealing my whereabouts without consulting the royal guards,” you state, hating the matter of fact but you couldn’t risk their safety. “Rules are rules, and no matter what story we spin, we still broke the law.”

“You’re going to leave us?” Hoseok asks in disbelief. “After everything.”

You bite your lip hard to stop your eyes watering but it doesn’t work. This would be the hardest thing you would do but it needed to be done.

“Not forever,” you promise, voice hoarse and heavy. “But until I can clear your name and guarantee your safety, this will have to be goodbye.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, his arms crossed, his eyes closed as if that would protect him and stop everything.

“You and I both know what happens if you come back with me Yoongi,” you sniff. “If you get imprisoned in my country, the repercussions will be war and you know it.”

“What if we go back to our country?” Hoseok suggests, “Yoongi’s uncle might be able to liaise with little Queen’s government and clear our name.”

“There’s no guarantee that would work,” Namjoon sighs, massaging his head with his fingers as he tries to solve this impossible conundrum. Politics was more complicated than chess, it was like playing on a board 50 times the size with a thousand more unique pieces.

“Not to mention what Y/n’s government will force her to do in return for clearing our name,” Yoongi seethes, finally looking at you with a sad anger welling his eyes. “What if they ask you to marry Wang like your father proposed, to honour his wishes and get whatever deal he was offered by selling your hand in marriage.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tae says in disbelief, looking between you and Yoongi waiting for someone to reassure him you wouldn’t become a pawn for your country. You only look at him sadly in reply.

“One problem at a time please,” Jin mutters, catching Namjoon’s headache.

“Please don’t go back,” Jimin begs, the palm of his hands covering his eyes as he sobbed. This was so cruel, that they finally got to taste a life with you in their arms for only seconds before you were taken away.

“What if Princess married Hyung?” Jungkook suggests desperately, but the question makes you burst more into tears, your head tilted to the ceilings as you try to stop.

“She can’t get married without the permission of the courts,” Namjoon says solemnly, head hanging low. “And Yoongi Hyung’s uncle would never agree, there’s too much bad blood.”

“He barely agreed to let Yoongi become little queen’s guard,” Jin remembers out loud.

Yoongi shakes his head. He hated this, the fact his blood had a say in his life, ruled it without thought to what he wanted.

“If my father was king he would have allowed it,” Yoongi admits, for years he prayed his uncle would sire offspring so the crown would never fall on him, now he was second guessing his wishes.

You both look at eachother, another life flashing before your eyes, one so out of reach it was more of a fantasy than a dream. You still held a resentment for his actions, but the concept of leaving him overcast everything. You understood it to some extent but you truly didn’t know whether you could forgive him.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, “right now it doesn’t change anything.”

He hangs his head in shame, knowing he really fucked up beyond repair.

Your attention shifts to Namjoon as he kneels in front of you, the equation in his head starting to solve itself. His eyes implore into yours, the rest of the group fade to the background when he takes your hands into his, his warm touch soothing you.

“You always said growing up royal was awful,” He starts cautiously, not wanting to cause any more problems or misunderstandings. “There were too many rules, too many restrictions, too many classes on how to behave.”

You nod as you take in his words, wondering where he was going with this.

“Your father pushed you away, there's a history of that you know,” he informs you. “The first heir is always treated differently, the spare is raised with less restraint, they say the prospect of raising a child who is set to replace you throughout time has caused parental rifts.”

“Where are you going with this Joonie?” you ask, he smiles apologetically, the tangent was somewhat an accident to avoid a harsh truth he needed to reveal.

“If you go back, your whole life is decided for you, Queen of a country or not, the government will set your alliance to someone they see fit, you will be expected to have two children, at least, and then they will be subjected to everything you did growing up.”

You stare at him. The thought had crossed your mind before but you always swore you would do better. The reason your father was so harsh on you was he couldn’t have a spare, your mother died too soon after your birth. You were it, he drilled that into you from day one.

“I can protect them,” you say weakly, tears starting again when Joon shakes his head in disagreement.

“I know you’ll fight Y/n, but it would be you against a hundred officials, you tried to fight your father and you couldn’t and every one of those officials were behind him in his decision.”

“Joon,” you cry, wanting him to stop. His hand squeezes yours, the other wiping away the teardrops gently trying to cushion his words.

“To the world, you are so privileged, and part of that is true, but they haven’t seen you suffer like we have, and I hate to think about how much you suffered before meeting us.”

You sniff, looking around the room at the rest of them looking so downtrodden, your eyes falling last on Yoongi who wipes his tears before they can fall. Yoongi, who understood you through experience, who you connected with the moment you met.

“You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me,” you tell them truthfully, “I don’t want to go back without you, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“It’s your decision little Queen,” Hoseok steps forward, smiling sadly but knowing how hard this was for you. “We’ll support you no matter what.”

The younger three glare at him for that comment, the others hanging their heads low as if in prayer.

“Whatever happens,” Jin agrees, “you always have our love and support Princess.”

“Please,” Yoongi begs quietly, his face scrunched in pain as he cries openly. The sight breaks your heart all over again, you really did hate seeing him in pain.

—

“After the tribulations and trials of our beloved royal family, I think the country can say this is a monumental event in history. Like treachery out of a mediaeval plot, today also marks the one month anniversary of the death of our late king, murdered by the wife of his nephew in a scheme for the crown.

Of course this plot was unveiled by his daughter, who at the time fled the country for her safety, but returned to ensure the safety of her people and bring Kim Taeyeon to justice.”

Sadness sat like stones in their stomachs, sinking slowly as your face graced the screen. You smile but they know it doesn’t reach your eyes, you wave to the crowd and the cameras before climbing into the carriage off to the citadel for your coronation.

“She looks so beautiful,” Taehyung mumbles, in awe of your figure in the red ruby gown. He blinks back tears, your absence didn’t get any easier for them, and seeing you on a screen just cemented the fact you were no longer here.

“I can’t believe she went back,” Jin whispers to himself but the others hear. They also hear his unsaid words hiding between the lines, you chose duty over them, the irony was hard to ignore. You always thought they would do the same.

“Of course the matter still remains about the young Queen’s foreign bodyguards who’s current whereabouts are unknown. There is massive divide in the country and government over the actions of Kim Namjoon and his men, one of whom is the current Prince of another nation. There are calls for their presence in the court, others are demanding they receive the medal of valour, and during a recent official press conference this is what our new Queen had to say…”

The screen shifts to you at a podium, cameras and lights flashing on your form as you look at your paper. They hadn’t seen the footage yet but the date stamp on the footage showed it was from a few days ago. Jungkook holds his breath, waiting for you to speak, it felt like a lifetime ago that he heard your voice.

“I understand there is a lot of speculation over my disappearance, and rumours that I was abducted by the men sworn to protect me.”

The youngest can’t help sniffling at the sound, he misses you and the feeling opened new excruciating wounds in him where he thought there was room for no more.

“I am here to clear any misunderstanding over the events of the last month or so. This accusation has put to question the character of the men my own father, the late king, employed and I can say one thing for certain with absolute conviction…”

You take a pause, looking up at the cameras as if staring into each of their souls. They can see the longing in your eyes, the tears forming that you blink away, a moment of weakness that you had to hide.

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin… Min Yoongi,” you take a breath as if his name pained you. “Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jung Jungkook are the best men I have ever met, and they saved my life, and any call for their imprisonment is a crime against the crown and against me. I will do everything in my power to clear their names, and have them return. Our relations with King Min must remain peaceful, and I will not have my country tarnish their character and cause unrest between two nations.

My first act on the throne will be to resolve any remaining issues between our countries and draw up a new treaty with King Min, and I know my people will stand with me. Thank you.”

“She’s gonna do it,” Namjoon says quietly but proudly, smiling sadly when he sees the resolve on your face as you start answering press questions. “It’ll take some time but we’ll be by her side again.”

The room is quiet as they watch the footage change back to your coronation, all of them swallowing back tears with heavy hearts. They wished they could be standing there beside you, but one day they knew they would be again, no matter how long it took.

There are cheers coming from the crowds as the crown is placed on your head, you take a deep breath that they can all see, a smile to the people but your eyes are glassy.

“Our beautiful little Queen,” Jimin says in awe, tears slipping that he can’t help.

“I know she’ll be the best Queen in the world but I’m so anxious for her,” Jin breathes, his heart nervous for you.

“I wish we were there,” Hoseok whispers.

“She shouldn’t be there,” Yoongi says solemnly, standing. “She should be here with us.”

The others watch him walk out of the room, the prince had fallen into a deep stoic state, they just hope the hurt would fade with time. You carved out Yoongi’s soul the day you left, they could only pray he would find himself again.

—

You don’t know how you managed to give your new staff the slip, you had paid the driver off with enough money that he couldn’t refuse, despite what your advisors and the government officials tried to stop you from doing.

You knew it would bring you nothing but more grief, but you had to. You could already hear Namjoon berating you, it almost makes you smile before you remember why you’re here. You’re glad to see the tower is cold and depressing as promised, the criminals in here were all in treachery of the crown.

The guards all gave you worried looks as you demanded to see her, and there she stood in the last cell, trapped behind metal bars finally looking like the madness she held within. Her hair stood on end, a nest of knots that could never be undone, much like the chaos she caused in your life.

She sees you, and now you really do smile vindictively when her eyes travel down the length of your coronation gown before fixing themselves on the crown that sat where it belonged. She growls, her teeth baring in disgust and hate you never witnessed before.

She presses herself against the metal, reaching for you as if she could snatch all her wants within her grasp.

“You abdicated, that crown is mine!”

It was strange, confronting her like this. Almost surreal, the concept that this was the woman you befriended, the woman who failed in killing you, and the woman who murdered your father. There was no denying it, you saw it for yourself.

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” she has the gall to sob, to truly cry over her loss as if she was the victim, and you knew then there was no hope for her, not that you would ever offer it to her in the first place.

You shake your head in disbelief, a humourless laugh before you take a step closer, wanting no one but her to hear your words.

“You know what?” You start, voice quiet but unwavering. “If you had just left everything well enough alone, I wouldn’t be here, if you didn’t let your greed become so heinous it cost a man his life, eventually you could’ve worn this crown and I would have let you.”

She screams, the sound making you want to slap some sense into her.

“But your actions have cost so many people in so many ways,” you say sadly, not an ounce of sympathy for her, but for yourself as selfish as that might sound. “I can see now there’s no saving you.”

“That crown is mine! THAT CROWN IS MINE!” She repeats it as if it would become true, getting louder and louder as you stare.

“You killed my father you psychotic bitch,” you spit, but there was no point to this, there would be no real justice for her actions, and she would never regret them. You wonder what closure you were trying to gain by being here, there was nothing you could do to make her feel your pain.

—

“Your majesty,” your new personal advisor bids your farewell. You had moved to the cold imperial castle, the official site for the monarch. The day had cost you all your energy and you could barely bring yourself to climb the stairs to your new chamber. You try to ignore the urge to glance towards where you know they found your father’s body, the hurt of losing him still fresh despite the strain of your relationship with him. You push away the thoughts to deal with another time.

Your jaw hurts from forcing your face to smile all day for the public eye, as you get ready for bed the deep empty void in your chest gets filled with pangs of sadness so intense you have to stop and breathe for a moment. You had kept it subdued all day for duty, but it came back with a vengeance.

You were now Queen, and completely utterly unfathomably alone. The thought grips you so painfully in the silenve you can’t help the sob that turns into a wail. There was no one here to comfort you, no one to hear you yet you still covered your cries with your hand, sinking pitifully to the floor.

The agony of leaving them didn’t fade for a day. You forgave Yoongi and Namjoon the second you returned to this awful cage, wanting to regret leaving them but there was nothing you could do about your decision now. You knew what Yoongi was trying to protect you from, there was no malice in his actions, just desperation that undid you both. You walked back into the life you tried to escape, and lost far more than you could ever explain.

In truth you didn’t know whether you would see them again, whether you would win the fight to clear their name. You would never give up, you couldn’t, the only thing that kept you going was getting them back, otherwise this was going to be a long lonely purgatory for you without them.

“Min Yoongi I forgive you,” you barely breathe out loud, needing him to hear you no matter how impossible. You knew him better than you knew yourself, knew he needed to hear those words for his own peace, or he would never forgive himself. You knew what state you left him in, and that one thing was your biggest regret.

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btsqualityy · 1 year

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BTS Dating Series #12: Life When He’s Gone

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: You try to adjust to life without your boyfriend there.

Warnings: None to note.

Kim Seokjin

You sighed heavily as you stepped through the doorway of Jin’s apartment, making sure you closed the door behind you before locking it. Though Jin had made it clear that he’d love for you to spend time at his place, this was your first time making it over there in the three weeks that had passed since he’d gone on tour with the members.

After taking off your shoes and jacket, you paced into the kitchen in search of food. You had hoped that whatever Jin had in his fridge hadn’t gone bad in his absence because you were starving and hadn’t thought to go to the grocery store. When you opened the fridge, you were shocked to see it fully stocked with all of the ingredients needed to make your favorite foods.

“How?” You murmured to yourself and as you looked at the counter next to the fridge, you saw a large piece of paper folded up with your name on it. After shutting the door, you picked up the paper and unfolded it, seeing that it was from Jin.

“Hi jagi, I had my brother stock up on your favorites for me because I wanted you to be comfortable whenever you decided to (finally) come to my place! Feel free to cook yourself a meal, eat well, and make yourself at home! I miss you more than anything. All my love and heart - Your Jinnie.”

“That man,” you smiled to yourself before putting the note down and doing exactly what he instructed you to. Two hours later, after you had eaten your fill and changed into one of Jin’s t-shirt that he left behind, you were laying in his bed and decided to send him a picture of yourself, along with a text.

“Thank you for thinking of me, even from thousands of miles away. I miss you and I’m waiting for you to come home to me. I love you.”

Min Yoongi

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you huffed as you flew into the restaurant where your best friend was waiting for you to join her for lunch.

“Hey,” she smiled, waiting for you to take your seat before she bit into you. “What’s up with you? You’re usually never late and no offense, but you look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” you confessed. “I’ve barely been sleeping these days and I’ve been surviving off coffee and sheer will power to get my projects at work done.”

“Hmm, does this have anything to do with a certain rapper being gone on a jet setting tour with his members?” She smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up.”

“No seriously,” she chuckled. “How have you been holding up since he’s been gone?”

“I miss him so fucking much,” you admitted. “And I didn’t think I would. I can barely sleep without him.”

“It’s not surprising,” she shrugged. “The two of you have been joined at the hip ever since you started seeing each other.”

“I know but still, I never thought I’d miss any man this much,” you huffed. “I’m in so deep with Yoongi and the craziest part is, I don’t mind it at all.”

“Anyone with eyes could see that,” your best friend laughed. “And you wanna know something?”

“What?”

“He’s in just as deep as you are, if the way he looks at you is any indication,” she revealed, making you smile widely at the thought of your boyfriend.

Kim Namjoon

You strolled around the museum on your own, taking your time to look at and read the description for every piece that was showcased. In Namjoon’s absence, you found comfort in still doing the things that the two of you often did while you were together and museum hopping was near the top of the list.

“Ah, this is gorgeous,” you murmured to yourself as you came upon a particular abstract painting. As you read the description, you realized that it was created by one of Namjoon’s favorite artists so after taking your phone out, you posed in front of the piece and smiled widely, taking a quick selfie. Once you made sure that you liked it, you went straight to your text messages and sent it to Namjoon along with a simple text: “Missing you”.

As soon as you saw the picture sent, another picture popped up into your text thread and you smiled when you saw that it was from Namjoon. He was posing in front of one of your favorite works of art with a wide smile, dimples deep and proudly on display.

“Missing my museum partner a little more today,” was the text message that came with it. As soon as you went to reply, another one came through that read “there’s no way that we’re really doing the same thing at the same time”.

“Yes way,” you texted back. “I miss you. Hurry home.”

“I miss you more.”

Jung Hoseok

“So if you could just call the venue to confirm the date of the party, we can start to book the vendors,” you said to your assistant Jaehyun who nodded dutifully.

“Of course,” he replied. “Anything else?”

“That’ll be all. Thank you, Jaehyun,” you said and he smiled softly before rushing off to do the job you had given him. You walked around your desk then, taking a seat in your large chair and grabbing your phone to scroll through it. As soon as you unlocked it, you saw that you had a missed call from Hobi only five minutes prior so you hurriedly called him back, putting the phone on speaker as it rung loudly.

“You’ve reached Jung Hoseok. I couldn’t make it to the phone right now but I’ll call you back as soon as I can!” His voicemail recited, making you sigh heavily before hanging up. Just as you went to send him a text message, Jaehyun came rushing back into your office.

“Uh boss? There’s been an issue with the dates for the venue,” he grimaced and with a heavy sigh, you set your cell phone to the side before waving him inside to sort out the issue.

By the end of the day, you and Hobi had called each other a combined 8 times, each of you missing the other’s call by mere minutes. After getting home, eating, and getting into bed, you had given up all hope of hearing from your boyfriend that day. That was, until your phone rang at almost midnight.

“Hello?” You answered.

“I hope you didn’t think I was really gonna let the whole day go by without hearing your voice at least once,” Hobi murmured into the phone and you couldn’t help but to smile.

“I don’t know,” you said teasingly. “You cut it a little close this time.”

“Well, please forgive me,” he laughed. “How are you doing though, baby? Ok?”

“Yeah, much better now that I hear your voice,” you admitted.

“Me too baby, me too.”

Park Jimin

You were in your en suite bathroom, finishing up your skincare routine when ringing from your laptop made your heart rate skyrocket. After taking a quick look in the mirror to make sure you looked ok, you rushed into your bedroom and jumped onto the bed, hurriedly answering the incoming FaceTime call.

“Hello?” Jimin called out once the camera had finished connecting.

“Jimin-ssi,” you grinned. “How are you? How was the show tonight?”

“I’m ok, just finished showering and the show was great,” he replied. “Would’ve been better if you had been there, though.”

“Oh yeah right,” you giggled.

“How about you? How have you been?” He wondered and you grabbed one of your pillows, using it to prop yourself up as you got comfortable on the bed.

“I’m ok, just been trying to keep myself occupied with work,” you told him. “I’ve been working out a lot lately too, since I’ve been so anxious worrying about you and your health.”

“I’m fine jagi,” he assured you with a playful roll of his eyes. “But I don’t want you overdoing it in the gym, even though it’s definitely paying off.”

“You think?” You murmured teasingly, not so subtly letting the strap of your nightgown slide down your shoulder.

“Don’t try and distract me right now, I’m serious!” He whined, making you laugh loudly.

“Alright, alright, fine,” you relented. “Tell me more about the tour.” For the next hour, you and Jimin traded stories about what had been going on in your lives since you had been separated and before you knew it, you found yourself beginning to dose off against your pillow.

“Baby, go to bed,” Jimin told you gently. “It’s late for both of us.”

“Sing to me?” You requested and never having been one to deny you, Jimin began to sing Serendipity as you drifted off to sleep.

Kim Taehyung

“How’s your steak, Y/N-ah?” Taehyung asked you and you looked up at your phone that was propped up on the table, giving him a small smile.

“It’s amazing Tae, but-”

“But what?”

“You didn’t have to go to some much trouble,” you told him. “I mean, you ordered the food for me even though you’re in Europe right now and you skipped out on dinner with the members and the staff just to have a FaceTime date with me.”

“Baby, I did all of those things because I wanted to,” he reminded you. “It was no trouble for me to order the food for you and as for missing dinner with the members and staff, I’m literally on tour with them so I see them everyday. It won’t be the only time I’ll be able to hang out with them, I swear.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to rearrange your whole life for me,” you shrugged lamely.

“Hey, I’m making sure that you know how special you are to me and that you know you have a space in my life,” Taehyung explained. “Touring and the distance can be hard on relationships and I just don’t wanna leave any doubts in your mind, ok?”

“Ok,” you nodded with a grin. “Thank you, for the reassurance.”

“Anything for you baby, and that’s always,” he promised.

Jeon Jungkook

You laughed out loud as you watched Bangtan’s newest interview with Vogue magazine that had just been released only a few hours prior. With Jungkook being gone, you found yourself closely watching social media for updates on what the group was up to and how the shows of the tour were going. Doing so made you feel closer to Jungkook than physical distance currently allowed and that helped you not feel as lonely without him there.

When you got to about the midway point of the video, your phone suddenly rang and you reached over, barely taking your eyes off the screen as you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N-ah,” Jungkook greeted you and you couldn’t help the smile that slide onto your face.

“Hey you,” you replied. “Funny you chose to call right now, I’m watching your Vogue interview.”

“Ah yeah, we did that a few days ago,” he said.

“You look amazing, the stylists have been doing great,” you commented. “And you sounded good during the part where they asked you to sing your current favorite song.”

“Thanks baby,” he chuckled. “Wanna know something though?”

“What’s that?”

“All I could think about during that interview was you and how there’s only one week left until you come out to see me,” he confessed. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” you whispered. “And trust me, I’ve been thinking about it a lot too. Feels like it’s been forever since we were together when it’s really only been two months.”

“Two months too long,” he huffed. “Once you’re here, I might not let you go home.”

“I wouldn’t have any issues with that,” you giggled. “Now, talk to me and tell me about the tour.” You snuggled into the couch with a smile as Jungkook talked animatedly about the shows and how he couldn’t wait for you to see them.

...............................................................

Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

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03-shiro-25 · 9 months

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Min Yoongi | Are my feelings not important?...

Min Yoongi x gn reader

Synopsis: at reader's family dinner he saw how worried a very important person to him reacted to someone not feeling well mentally and got reminded about how the person reacted when reader felt like he could never be happy again

warnings: angst

Note: i will probably mainly write for Suga on this blog. He is like my ULT Bias AND ULT comfort person on this planet. He helped me so much so I feel the most comfortable when I write for him (and Jk)

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵❘༻༺❘‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Today was the day you would be meeting up with your whole family. You were so excited, you haven't seen them in forever. You had a pretty good relationship with your family. But since they were all busy with their own lives and you were busy with your work as an producer at hybe entertainment you never got the chance to meet up.

It was in the afternoon when you started to get ready. You didn't put on anything fancy or styled your hair. They all knew you were no fan of dressing up and stuff. So you were not worried when you looked in the mirror and saw yourself with messy hair, some wide jeans and an plain black shirt. You liked your style.

So after you were finished getting ready you headed to the front door where your boyfriend was already waiting for you. "You ready?" he asked you as he eyed you up and down with a smile. He knew how exited you have been for the last week. You were only talking about that dinner and how you have missed them all so much. The whole week your mood had been over the roof.

"I guess you will come home late today then?" he opened the front door for you as he walked out with you.

"Yeah, probably haha" you giggled, growing more excited. "Well, I might still be at the studio when you come back so either you go home to rest or you come visit me after your dinner" he shot you a dirty grin before he started to laugh. "Yeah, we will see. Love you. See you later." you spoke fast, giving him a small kiss before each heading to your own cars. He drove off to the studio while you went the other direction towards the restaurant where you were supposed to meet your family.

The moment you arrived one of your aunts came walking to you. "Y/n! It is so good to see you again! Did you grow a bit more again? I swear you are taller than the last time I saw you" She always said that when she saw you. You laughed "Hello to you too! You think I grew again? Well I hope so!" you smiled at her. You really liked her.

"Come with me! The others are already inside" she told you as she lead you the way to the table where your whole family sat. You almost teared up at that sight. Your two aunts who were always bickering about something. Your grandma who was in despair since her hearing aids weren't working right AGAIN, your uncle who didn't speak much, your older sister with her bright pink hair AND her husband was here too! He was really introverted! At family meetings he almost only talked to you! With others he only said something when he was asked something, but with you he talked and talked and talked. You waved and smiled at him, he did too when he was you.

Next was your little sister. She was still pretty young, about 12 years old, but really cute. Then your stepdad and finally your mother. When she saw you she immediately stood up to hug you. "Hey my treasure, how have you been?" since you were a child she always called you her treasure. You thought that that was really sweet. "Work is great, it is really fun! And the people I work with are very nice" she nodded at you as your aunt interrupted you. "Yah! We don't want to know about your work! Tell us, do you have a girlfriend yet?" you just rolled your eyes at her.

Of course she only wanted to know that. "No, I don't" you said without explaining that you have a boyfriend. "Do you have a boyfriend?" your older sister asked you. Now a smirk grew on you face. "Yes, I do." your sister just smiled at you knowingly. A sigh was heard from your aunt.

The dinner went on like that. Just catching up on the lives of each other. In between you went to your sisters husband to talk to him since he couldn't really talk with the others. But you noticed that your younger sister has been awfully quite the whole time. Your mother seemed to have noticed too as she excused herself and her youngest child. They stood up and left the table to a quiet area where they could talk unbothered. You had a strange feeling so you followed them.

You knew eavesdropping wasn't ok but you somehow couldn't stop yourself, you were way too curious. They stopped in a hallway where no people where. You hid behind a wall where they couldn't see you but you could see and hear them. Your mother crouched down a bit to be on your sisters level. "Please tell me what's wrong love" she looked at her with concern-filled eyes. Your little sister looked down to the ground. "I don't know... I just haven't been to happy with my live lately I guess.." the little one mumbled. To ashamed to look at your mother.

"It is just... I hate my life at the moment..." the moment you said these words to your mother you regretted it and wished you would have just stayed silent.

Oh no... You were ready to step in at every moment. Preparing yourself you argue with your mother and comfort your sister but it never came to it. Your mothers next acts and words shocked you. They hurt. "Would you like to tell me why sweetheart? Maybe we can work on making it better together?" she softly spoke as she hugged the small one in a comforting manner.

Your heart dropped the moment you heard her say that. You were not expecting that. An aching pain started to spread in your chest and your breathing got caught in your lungs. Suddenly your body felt heavier than before and your mind went blank.

She seemed angry and disappointment "Sorry that your life is SHIT. I am sorry for giving birth to you and gifting you this awful life." what she said and the way she said it broke you. It sounded as if she thought that it wasn't her problem and that you only wanted to hurt her. Tears started to fall from your eyes. You came to her because you thought she would give you comfort... but she didn't.

You had to get out of here. You had to leave. You couldn't stay here right now. So you rushed back and gathered your stuff. Your family looked at you confused. "Sorry... my boyfriend needs me home as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you all again." with that you left and basically ran to your car. As soon as you closed the car door your mothers word repeated in your head over and over again. 'I am sorry for giving birth to you' 'I am sorry for giving birth to you' over and over again. Like a broken record. No matter how hard you tried to think of something else the words kept replaying in your head.

You could barely concentrate on driving, almost getting in a car accident. 'Where are you Suga?.. I need you..' with that thought appearing in between your mothers hard words you drove faster. Needing to see him as soon as possible. He was the only person on earth that could give you comfort.

You arrived at the studio and rushed inside, heading straight to your boyfriends 'genius lab'. With every step you took your body started to feel heavier. You knocked before entering after you heard him give you the ok. As he turned with his chair to see who it was he was surprised to see you already back. He thought you would stay away longer. "Hey baby, why are you back already? Is everything ok?" the moment he asked you that you felt your strength leaving your legs as they slowly gave out under you.

You leaned on the closest wall to you and slowly slid down until you were sat on the floor. Suga was beyond concerned, jumping up from his seat to rush and crouch down in front of you. "Hey. Hey.. what is wrong baby? Did anything happen?" he asked but you couldn't answer him. 'I am sorry for giving birth to you' 'Maybe we can work on making it better together?' the words your mother said to your sister replayed in your head, like it was mocking you.

Did she love your sister more then you? Why did she react different with her? Is she more important than you?...

"Are my feelings not important?..." that was the first thing your boyfriend heard from you this night. Your voice sounded lifeless as you were just staring in front of you. It scared him. A few single tears streamed down your face. A frown adorned his face after he heard these words leave your lips. "Of course your feelings are important. Don't ever think that they are not, ok?" he tried to reassure you. "Would you like to tell me what happened?" you had been so excited about tonight, he just had to know what could have ruined that for you.

"My mother... when I was a kid and felt like everything was to much and like I would break down every moment I trusted her and told her how I felt... 'Sorry that your life is SHIT. I am sorry for giving birth to you and gifting you this awful life.' That were her exact words to my feelings... but today my little sister told her that she was feeling like I did back than... my mother wasn't angry at her. She offered to help her.." Yoongi's jaw clenched as he heard the story.

How could your mother have said that to you? Especially at a time you were feeling like shit anyways. He was furious. And he was sad for you. You looked so broken when you spoke about it. So he sat down onto the floor beside you and offered you some cuddles. Of course you accepted as you leaned in and cried your eyes out on his shoulders. He made you feel like your feelings were important. Like he understood how you felt. He was your family.

"You know Yoongi? When she said that to me back then I of course felt hurt, but more did I feel sorry. I shouldn't have told her how I felt. It must have been hard for her to hear these words leave my lips.." you thought about it.

"Even if it hadn't been easy for her, you were suffering too. And she is your mother. She is supposed to be there for you. To help you through tough times. So you had no reason to feel sorry" he sounded sad as he spoke.

"Actually, every time she cared for someone else I felt my heart ache and questioned myself 'Why couldn't you care for me the same way? Why? Do you not love me enough?' For years the memories and thoughts wouldn't leave my head. It was so draining. I felt tired. But I can't talk with my mom about this... even though I really want to know why she reacted the way she did.."

"I will do anything I can to help you forget about it. I am sure your mother had a good reason for her behavior back then. And please never feel like you are any less important than anyone else. For me you are the most important person alive." a small smile could be seen on your face thanks to his words. As he saw that he felt relieved and smiled back.

You were not angry at your mother. But you had to admit you were a bit hurt and disappointed. But that didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the man who was currently holding you close, telling you over and over again how important you were. Soon you fell asleep in his embrace. He couldn't fall asleep for a long time. Thinking about what your mother said and how you must have felt hearing these words as a kid.

He swore himself that he would always pay attention to your emotions and would help you whenever you needed him.

#bts #bts angst #angst #bts fluff #bts x gn reader #x gn reader #gn reader #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts min yoongi #bts suga #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x gn reader

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horanghaejamjam · 2 years

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BTS Reaction: You Wear a Revealing Outfit

Prompt: You wear a revealing/sexy outfit in front of the boys

Requested? Yes

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Swearing

Female reader. Gifs are not mine!

Disclaimer: This is a repost from my original blog, this is my own original work and not copied.

BTS Masterlist

Other Groups Masterlist

_________________________________________

Kim Namjoon:

It honestly wasn’t too uncommon for you to wear clothes that were tight fitting or that showed off a bit of skin. You felt a lot more confident when you wore these things and you knew that Namjoon loved when you wore them as well. He never really had a problem with you showing off your figure a bit, since you did look good and he felt that you should wear what makes you feel comfortable. It had been a few weeks since you had really been able to spend time with your boyfriend and Namjoon finally got a night off so he figured the two of you could go out. He had gotten a reservation at your favorite restaurant and had bought you a new dress for the occasion. It was tight fitting to show off your curves and short enough that it barely touched your thighs. Pair the dress with your favorite heels and makeup and you were set to go. When Namjoon saw you walk into the living room he immediately ran his gaze across your body, drinking in every detail with a smirk. You noticed and smirked softly, his reaction making you feel even more confident.

“Like what you see?” you asked teasingly, causing Namjoon to smirk as well as he walked over to you.

“A lot,” he said as he rested his hands on your hips, pulling you over to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly, which he eagerly returned. “Damn baby girl,” Namjoon growled when you pulled away, “I’m half tempted to skip dinner and rip that dress off of you.” You laughed softly and hit his chest.

“I did not get all dressed up for nothing, you’ll just have to contain yourself until we get home.” Namjoon hummed in thought as he buried his face into your neck.

“No promises.”

Kim Seokjin:

To Jin, you had always been his innocent princess. With your cute expression and oversized sweatshirts, (that were his 90% of the time). He loved that look on you, and it did always make you look small and innocent. You had never really worn anything that showed off your body. Not because you were insecure, but just because you found the baggier and larger outfits more comfortable. This time however, was a bit of a special occasion. This was the first award show that you would be attending with Jin and you wanted to look your best. Afterall, if you were dating World Wide Handsome, you had to look the part. You had gotten in contact with one of the stylists and she had helped you pick out a nice dress. It was floor length and not too tight fitting, but it was low cut and showed off quite a bit of your cleavage. You were a bit nervous to be seen with it, but it was too late to change.

You were waiting in the room for Jin to come and grab you so you could head out together, nervously playing with your hands. Jin had walked in a moment later, in the middle of greeting you but he stopped once he saw you.

“Jagi, what are you wearing?” he stuttered out after a minute. You frowned softly and looked down at yourself.

“Do you not like it?”

“No no I love it!” he assured, “it’s just, kind of revealing don’t you think?” He didn’t mind it at all, you looked amazing. However, given the thoughts that he was having seeing you in it, he knew others would have the same idea.

Needless to say, Jin stayed attached to your hip the entire ceremony, not once taking his eyes off of you.

Min Yoongi:

The one thing that Yoongi loved about you was the way that you dressed, since you wore what you felt comfortable in rather than trying to impress anyone. You weren’t the most confident in your appearance, so you tended to wear clothes that hide your figure. Yoongi knew this and, despite his constant assurance that you were beautiful, he never pushed you into wearing anything else. It was extremely hot out and your air conditioner wasn’t working so you were walking around the house in only short shorts and a tank top. Evidently, you hadn’t been planning on going out at all today or you would have worn something a bit more modest. Fate seemed to have other ideas though as Yoongi called you, explaining how he left his flash drive there and he desperately needed it in order to finish his work. His voice was stoic as usual, but you could still tell how frantic he was and promised you would be there in a few minutes, quickly grabbing the item in question and rushing out the door. You hadn’t realized what you were wearing until it was too late and you were already pulling up to the building. An annoyed groan left you as you looked for something to cover up but decided to just rush in there quickly and get it over with. Yoongi turned in his chair when he heard you entering his studio, smiling softly and getting ready to thank you before stopping himself upon seeing what you were wearing. You immediately felt self conscious and tried to cover yourself as you quickly walked over and set the drive on his desk, turning to leave when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his lap.

“Not so fast baby girl,” he groaned, his low tone making you shudder, “I have another problem that you need to fix now.” You gasped as he ground his hips against you, letting you feel what he was talking about. Maybe you would have to start wearing these things around him more often

Jung Hoseok:

Hobi had been trying to get you to try dancing with him for a while but you always had a different excuse every time. Not that you didn’t want to spend time with your boyfriend, but you weren’t nearly as good of a dancer as he was. Hoseok was persistent though and cornered you one day when he knew that you were free so you had no choice but to agree. Since it was fairly hot outside and you knew how intense some of his choreo could be. You decided to wear a top that showed off your stomach and sweatpants, tying your hair back so it was out of your face. At first, Hoseok hadn’t noticed the outfit that you were wearing, more focused on his excitement and teaching you the dances. It was only after the two of you decided on a short break that he finally took notice. You were covered in sweat which caused your already tight shirt to stick to your body, leaving very little to the imagination. Hoseok’s breath hitched and he quickly looked away to try and clear his head before he got a bit too excited, the poses you were making not helping him either.

“Hey Hobi,” you called out as you stretched, “can you bring me my water bottle?” He nodded and quickly brought it over to you, still trying to keep his eyes from wandering to your chest. You hadn’t noticed his strange behavior and thanked him as you took a few drinks to help cool yourself down, a few drops slipping past your mouth and dripping onto your chest. The second he saw that, he caved and you quickly found yourself pinned against the wall with your boyfriend’s lips roughly pressed against your own.

“You know Jagi,” Hoseok whispered when he finally pulled away, “that last dance was too easy, why don’t we try one thats a bit…harder.”

Park Jimin:

Like Jin, Jimin always thought that you were more cute and innocent. You always dressed up in the cutest outfits and you would always shy behind him at the smallest of sounds. He could never really see you as anything else other than his precious baby. It was the weekend and you were planning to spend the night out with your friends since Jimin was still busy with the new album. You wanted to dress up a bit since this night was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun, but you also were worried about wearing something too extreme. Not that you owned any outfits like that to begin with since outfits that were a little tighter than normal tended to make you nervous. After rummaging through your closet for what felt like the millionth time, you finally settled on a skirt and a semi low cut tank top. It didn’t show off much, but it was still more than you were used to and it made you a bit nervous. You were walking out of your room to grab your things and head out when you heard a familiar voice in the living room. What was Jimin doing home? He said he wasn’t going to be back until late! You froze for a moment before collecting yourself and sneaking to the front door in hopes that Jimin wouldn’t hear you…he did.

“Jagi?” you heard his soft voice call as he got up and walked over to you, “are you going somewhere? I just got home and I thought…” he trailed off as he took in your appearance. “Jagi, what are you wearing?” You felt your face heat up as you stuttered over your own words trying to come up with an explanation, his gaze making you feel incredibly small.

“I was just going to go out with a few friends,” you explained, “if I had known that you were going to be home then…”

“Not like that you’re not!” Jimin cut you off, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to him, “sorry baby, but you’ll have to call your friends and cancel. We have other plans now.”

Kim Taehyung:

Taehyung had finally gotten some time off and the two of you decided to go out and spend some much needed time together. Since the weather was nice, you decided that it would be a great idea to go swimming together. It was fun, would keep you cool, and you had just gotten a new bathing suit so it was a win-win situation. The bathing suit itself was a simple one piece, but it was a bit low in the chest and had straps at the side which showed off quite a bit of skin. Taking a second to glance at yourself in the mirror, you smiled at the way the bathing suit fit you before jogging outside. Taehyung had clearly beaten you there and was already in the water when you walked over. He swam over to the edge and looked up at you with a bright smile, trailing his eyes over your figure.

“Is it hot out here or is that just you?” he asked, causing you to laugh as you carefully stepped into the water. Your boyfriend seemed to have other ideas though as he grabbed you and pulled you down, giving you seconds to react before you were fully submerged. Once you resurfaced, you glared over at him as he laughed, causing you to push him under as revenge. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down with him so you were both underwater, crashing his lips against yours.

Jeon Jungkook:

It had taken Jungkook a while to not get shy when he was around you. He was definitely a lot more comfortable and confident around you, but he still managed to get flustered over simple things. The farthest that the two of you had ever gone is kissing and even that was barely more than a light peck. Whenever things started to escalate, one of you would get shy and back off. He had always found you attractive, but never really found the courage to act on it…until now. He had just gotten back from tour and decided that he was going to stop by your place and surprise you, being familiar with your schedule and knowing you would be home. It was your day off and you preferred to stay home and relax rather than go out anywhere. You had actually just gotten out of the shower when you heard someone knocking on the door, quickly scrambling to put on a robe and rushing to the door. You assumed it may have just been your neighbor or a delivery, so you were pleasantly shocked when you saw your boyfriend on the other side of the door.

“Kookie!” you exclaimed as you jumped into his arms, forgetting about the very thin fabric being the only thing separating your bare form from him. Jungkook surely noticed though, feeling his breath hitch as he cautiously ran his hands across your body.

“Wow,” he whispered softly, “I came over to try and surprise you and yet I am the one being surprised.” You were about to ask what he meant by that when you felt one of his hands trail down your back to squeeze your thigh, realizing now how exposed you were.

“Um yeah, let me go get dressed real quick,” you managed to stutter out, but his grip on you only tightened.

“Stay, I think I like this look on you,” Jungkook purred, “but I think I would like it off even more!”

_________________________________________

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cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary:

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.}

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it.

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch. If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away. Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p. You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Epilogue

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

At this point, what can be considered normal?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

It was a nice late morning. The sun was shining but thankfully, it was blocked out by the dark curtains. It was nice and quiet, only the sounds of your breathing as you slept peacefully. There were no alarm clocks or phone calls-

*BANG BANG BANG*

“Yoongi hyung! You’ve been holding onto her for hours! She needs to come out!” Taehyung was banging on the door. You could hear Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok and Jin there too.

“Yeah! She needs to work!”

That was a lie. After coming back from performing Geumjae’s surgery yesterday, the boys had insisted you take a break since it was a long, gruelling surgery. But then again, the others would do anything to get the pale man to open the door for them.

“Just keep quiet and they’ll go away soon.” Yoongi grumbled, holding you tighter, totally unaffected by the screams.

“No, we won’t!” Seems that they heard him.

“Come on, I have to get up.” You patted his back. He tucked you into the crook on his neck like a mother holding her child. His cheek pressed against the top of your head as he huffed.

“You don’t have to get up. It’s your day off.” He murmured. You giggled, arm slinging around him in defeat.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your head.

“That’s it! I don’t hear movement! Either get the keys or Jungkook, kick the door down.” You heard more commotion outside. Everyday was a chaotic day in the Bangtan household.

“Ugh, hang on a sec.” Yoongi got out of bed, ready to give them an earful. But the moment he opened the door, he was mowed down by everyone else as they approached you, who was on the bed. You welcomed them with open arms and they piled on, engulfing you in big hugs and smiles. Yoongi stood there, glaring at you.

“Yah! Get off!” Yoongi shouted.

“Okay.” They willingly slipped off the bed, which was surprising. Until Jungkook scooped you up into his arms, running out of the room. He cackled evilly while you yelped, arms tightened around his neck in fear.

“I’m hom- What...” Namjoon stopped in the doorway when he saw what was going on. You have him a pleading look.

“Kook, let her down now.” Namjoon frowned. As much as you liked to play around and have fun with the boys, sometimes, all you would like is a peaceful morning.

“With all due respect, hyung. If you try to take my baby away from me, I will actually fight you.” Jungkook said.

“Rich coming from the guy who took her from me. Fight him, Joon.” Yoongi snorted from the top of the stairs. Knowing that the boys will actually fight each other (which you do tell them is dumb), you pinched Jungkook’s pressure point, temporarily immobilising him.

“Ah!” He yelped as he let go of you. You fell onto the couch, standing up and straightening Yoongi’s your hoodie. With a sigh, you headed over to Namjoon to properly greet him after his early morning meeting.

“Welcome home.” You grinned.

“Thank you, my love.” He wrapped an arm around you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re bleeding!” Your eyes widened when you saw his knuckles. It looked exactly like Jungkook’s knuckles. Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Grabbing his wrist, you brought him to the office.

“Love, I can patch it up. They’re small wounds. You’re supposed to be resting.” Namjoon told you. You shook your head while washing your hands.

“Small wounds that can get infected, Joon. And I don’t need to rest much more, I knocked out like a light with Yoongi last night.” You chuckled, grabbing your first aid kit. You pulled your stool to sit in front of him and began to clean his wounds. The first thing you did was remove some of the dried blood that crusted on the side.

“It’s gonna sting.” You said before putting the antiseptic. He winced slightly, his nose scrunching up.

“You guys never get used to it.” You laughed. Once the wounds were cleaned, you bandaged his knuckles. You placed his hand in yours, inspecting his hand for more injuries.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything again.” You lectured.

“Because I have a doctor that takes good care of me.” Namjoon grinned. You shook your head, kissing his cheek.

“Please, I already told you not to overwork them considering they just got better after you broke them. And you always scold the younger ones for not listening to me when you’re no better.” You teased. Namjoon laughed.

“If I have you to take care of me, I will get injured more.” Namjoon hugged your waist. You flicked his forehead.

“I dare you, Kim Namjoon.” You frowned.

“Alright, alright. Namjoon looks good and patched up! Now it’s my turn, I want my morning kiss. Come here.” Jin yanked you away by your waist, dipping you down and showering you in kisses. You burst out laughing, grabbing onto his shirt so you won’t fall back.

“I’m going to get a coffee.” You shuffled away to the kitchen. The maids prepared your usual iced coffee.

“Thank you.” You yawned and sipped before going back out. You sat on the couch and Jimin sat down, bringing your legs up to drape over his lap. When your phone buzzed, you took it out of your pocket to check.

“Ah, I have to go check on Geumjae. He just woke up.” You announced.

“But it’s your day off.” Hoseok said.

“I know. But it’s the day after his surgery so I have to make sure he’s feeling alright and not having any complications, considering it was a major surgery.” You grunted as you stood up. You quickly finished your drink and went to change. Yoongi would be accompanying you, of course, to visit his brother. The other boys decided to tag along... just to not be left out.

“You guys go grab a bite. I shouldn’t be too long.” You sent them a kiss as they dropped you off at the staff entrance.

“We love you.” They said.

“I love you all too.” You smiled and waved as they drove to the public parking. Slipping on your coat, you went to Geumjae’s private ward. He was awake, sitting up slightly and watching the television that was provided.

“Hey, got here as soon as I heard you were awake. Yoongi should be coming up soon, he’s parking the car.” You greeted.

“Hey... Thanks again... for everything. Not just the surgery... but for making me realise my mistake. I’m so glad Yoongi and I are close again. It’s really all thanks to you.” He smiled weakly.

“Don’t mention it. How are you feeling?”

“A little light headed. And sore.” His hand lightly touched his clothed chest where the surgery sutures were underneath.

“That’s normal, considering the effects of the anaesthesia is wearing off. I’ll still put you on IV painkillers for the next day or two, until the wound starts to heal more and cause less pain. Can I check your wound?” You asked. He nodded and you unbuttoned his shirt to check the sutures.

“Looks good. I’ll replace the gauze.” You removed the protecting gauze above the sutures and replaced it with a clean one.

“Good news is we managed to remove the affected tissue. You still have to be on your medications for the next week? We will do a follow up biopsy after just to make sure we have completely eradicated the cancer.” You instructed.

“Okay. Thank you.” He nodded as you buttoned his shirt up.

“Hyung.” Yoongi came in.

“Yoongi.” His brother greeted as you straightened up. You let Yoongi get closer to his brother as you removed your gloves and washed your hands. As they chatted, you checked his charts.

“Take your time, Yoongs. I’ll go find the others.” You smiled. Yoongi nodded, reaching to peck your temple before sitting down to speak with Geumjae. You gave them privacy, exiting the room. You went to the nurse’s station to update Geumjae’s file. Although the surgery was tiring, you learnt a lot and was glad for the experience.

“Mr Min in Room 32 should be in IV fluids until he’s no longer nauseated by the anaesthesia. Then move him to soft foods.” You told the nurse, who nodded her head and keyed in the instructions to the patient’s system profile.

“Thank you!” You smiled and handed the file to her. You went to the vending machine to get a can coffee.

“Hi, are you a doctor here?” Someone appeared.

“Kinda?” You chuckled, pressing the button for your cold coffee. You weren’t gonna tell some stranger the long story about you being a private doctor to singular patient here.

“I’m a new resident. Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out. You gave a small smile, shaking his outstretched hand.

“You’re Dr (y/l/n)’s daughter right?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“I look forward to working with you, sunbae. I know you did the recent lung cancer tissue extraction surgery, it was very knowledgeable and I learnt a lot.” He bowed.

“Thanks... But I don’t actually work here as a mentor so you won’t see me around anymore. The other doctors are just as good, I’m sure of it. Everyone is trained and of professional calibre, you will learn a lot from them as well.” You were starting to get a little awkward by his overly enthusiastic disposition.

“Baby, there you are.” A voice appeared and you saw your 6 other boyfriends there. They did not look pleased.

“You took so long so we came to find you. We had to stop Kook from ordering everything on the cafeteria menu.” Jimin laughed. You shook your head at the maknae, who pouted.

“I’m still a growing boy.” He argued. He wasn’t, actually.

“Who’s this?” Jin raised an eyebrow.

“Uh... He’s a new hoobae that works here.” You explained, realising that you hadn’t even learnt about this resident’s name. But it didn’t matter, you probably weren’t going to see him after this anyway.

“Come, jagi. We should go.” Taehyung grasped your hand, glaring at the now scared boy. You shook your head, knowing exactly what they were doing. Even before you got together, the boys always said you were their partner just to keep other girls away. Vice versa, they branded themselves as your boyfriends to scare other guys away.

“I-I have to go. Bye.” He bowed and scurried off.

“You guys are horrible, you know that?” You folded your arms with a shake of your head. Hoseok grinned, leaning to peck your cheek. You reached over to straighten his blazer.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Yoongi blinked, seeing the group of you there. You nodded your head.

“Are you hungry? We bought you guys sandwiches.” Namjoon lifted the bags up. Instead of sitting there to eat, you ate in the van as Hoseok drove.

“Here.” You gave some to Jungkook.

“But you hardly ate any of it yourself.” He told you. You just shrugged, not really having the appetite to eat anything. Jungkook leaned forward to eat the last bit of the sandwich out of your hand. You would much rather have your coffee instead of the sandwich.

“Shall we have barbecue tonight?” You asked the boys.

“It’s been a while.” They nodded their heads. Hoseok detoured and went to the big supermarket. You split into 3 teams, Jin and Yoongi buying the meat, Hoseok and Namjoon drinks and you with the maknaes for everything else.

“Buy a lot of meat, hyung!” Jungkook shouted to Jin as he placed his hands on your shoulders to push you to the other aisle.

“Hyung wanted coarse salt for his shrimp. This or this?” Jimin held up both the boxes. You looked at both of them before pointing to one. He happily placed it into the cart.

“Shall I make japchae?” You asked them.

“Yes!” Taehyung cheered. You sent a message to Yoongi to pick up some beef for japchae from the counter for you. After that, you picked up some vegetables that would go into japchae. Jimin trailed after you obediently while Taehyung and Jungkook disappeared. Jungkook had reappeared with loads of bags of snacks in his arms.

“Koo! That’s too much.” You chuckled at your now almost full cart, half filled with bags of chips.

“But we need more snacks for our movie nights! And besides, Jin hyung and Taehyung hyung keep eating my snacks. This is so they won’t take mine.” Jungkook pouted.

“Banana milk!” He quickly got distracted by the dairy section and ran off.

“You know, I can see why people don’t believe our line of jobs sometimes and how Jungkook is supposedly our best fighter.” Jimin scoffed.

“Well, take his banana milk and you’ll truly see how well he can fight.” You giggled as you placed some carrots and bell peppers into the cart. Taehyung came with 3 different ssamjang containers.

“Tae, why are you getting so much? We won’t be able to finish them all in one night.” Jimin scolded.

“But these are brands I haven’t tried before! So I wanna see which is the best. Then I’ll know to buy it next time!” Taehyung argued with his best friend. You shook your head and continued, Taehyung loved ssamjang. There’s no arguing in that. Jungkook came back with banana milk and cheese.

“You want cheese rice?” You asked.

“How did you know?!”

“Koo, even if I’ve only been your girlfriend for a short while, I have lived with you longer. You practically breathe cheese rice.” You scoffed, offended. Jungkook bunny grinned, wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course, you know me well.” He peppered kissed all over your cheek. When you were done, you went to meet the others.

“Boys, I may not be specialising in hepatology but that amount of alcohol is definitely not good for you.” You raised an eyebrow at the amount of alcohol that was stacked in Namjoon and Hoseok’s cart. Totally not in a helping way, Taehyung even got a few bottles of his and Seokjin’s favourite plum wine to add in. You laughed.

“We needed to stock the bar anyway. We promise not to drink so much.” Hoseok winked.

“Yoongi hyung and Seokjin hyung are ready. They’ll meet us at the cashier.” Namjoon informed. You nodded your head and you all went to pay.

“A big party?” He joked as he scanned.

“You could say that.” You smiled, waiting to pay with the card that the boys had given you for ‘house’ items like their groceries and meals. But honestly, they just wanted an excuse to give you a card to spend on yourself.

“You’re pretty.” He complimented.

“Oh... Thanks.” You blushed. A sudden clear of the throat made you jump slightly. You turned to see Namjoon and Yoongi with stern looks on their faces.

“Are you done yet, baby girl?” Yoongi emphasised on the pet name, which he never really uses at all. You blinked, still in slight shock. The cashier looked terrified suddenly, quickening his pace to finish scanning all your items. Namjoon wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Love, later let the others load the van alright? Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” Namjoon smiled sweetly at you.

“O...kay?”

“Uh, payment please?” He squeaked. Before you could hand the card over, Yoongi plucked it out of your hand and handed it for him to swipe. He gave it back with two hands and a deep bow.

“Let’s go.” Yoongi held your hand and led you away. The boys loaded the car and you were ready to head home. Suddenly, their phones all rang at the same time. Namjoon took his phone out to check the notification. It was quiet for a while.

“Everything okay?” You blinked.

“Yeah... But looks like we’ll have to return to work for a while.” Namjoon sighed. You nodded your head.

“We’ll drop you home. It’ll be safer.” Jin told you. Again, you nodded. You knew how these business meetings could go from bad to worse in only a couple of seconds. Hoseok pulled up to the house and you jumped out.

“Stay safe, boys.” You told the 7. They sent you in with hugs and kisses, waiting for you to disappear into the house with the maids before Taehyung pulled the butler closer to whisper something into his ear. The butler nodded his head, bowing deeply. He closed the door for the van, standing on the porch until the van disappeared.

“Agashi, I was told that there will be barbecue tonight? Shall I prepare the ingredients?” The butler smiled as the other staff brought the groceries in.

“I wanna help cook! Let me change first.” You smiled and went upstairs to the room. You changed out of your hospital clothes and into more comfortable clothes, aka Jimin’s lounge pants and Hoseok’s hoodie.

“Thanks for bringing this all in guys!” You said to them as you saw them clearing all the bags of shopping and keeping everything in its place. You really bought a lot.

“What do you want to make?” The maid asked.

“Taehyung likes marinated kimchi. And Jungkook was saying he wanted cheese rice to go with the meat. I also bought japchae ingredients.” You said.

“Alright.”

“You guys can take a break. Don’t worry, I would like to think I’m better in the kitchen than Namjoon is.” You joked and they all laughed, loving your attitude. The mansion’s staff loved working with you.

“We’ll help where we can.” The cook took the ingredients out for you, laying them out neatly. You started with the marinated kimchi, which was frying kimchi with garlic, spam and minced meat. While the rest of the staff attended to the things in the mansion, the cook stayed by your side in case you needed help.

“I think a bigger dice is okay.” He demonstrated.

“You can put it here to cool. Then I’ll close the container later.” He gave you the plastic container. You scraped the contents from the pan to the container.

“Are there some side dishes that go well with the barbecue? That the boys will like.” You asked him. He went to the fridge to look through what was inside to make side dishes.

“We have a few hours so we can do some pickled radish, spicy cucumbers, the fried anchovies that master Seokjin likes?” He suggested.

“Sounds exciting!” You clapped your hands.

The next few hours were spent cooking and preparing various meals to go with the barbecue for the night. You learnt a lot from the cook and your energy was mostly fuelled with iced coffee (of course). You were just happy to prepare so much food for your boys now that you knew what their tastes were like. There was even time to make grapefruit syrup for Taehyung’s sodas.

“I’ll help prep the shrimp too.” You rolled your sleeves up to prepare for Yoongi’s salt baked shrimp on the grill.

“Ah, agashi. Let me. Your hands may smell. After all, you’ve been cooking the whole day, why don’t you take a break? I insist.” The cook shook his head.

“Oh, alright. I’m only giving in because I need to make Koo’s cheese rice later.” You giggled. The cook nodded and you grabbed a snack before leaving the kitchen. You helped the staff set up the barbecue outside.

“Let me help.” You arranged the chairs.

“It’s okay, agashi. Please rest.” The maids shook their heads. Going to retrieve Kookie, you sat under the gazebo with a book.

“Kookie ah. Don’t do that.” You stroked his head as he began to nibble the corner of your book again. Looks like even without the boys here, you still wouldn’t be able to read in peace.

“Where are they?” You checked your phone, there were no calls or messages from any of the boys. As the sun set, you were seated in your designated seat, which was in between Jungkook and Hoseok. You checked your phone to see the time, it was getting late.

You perked up when you heard the door to the backyard open and footsteps. However, when you turned your head, the smile dropped from your face.

Ko-fi link

Series Masterlist

[If you are reading this, thank you for making it to the end. For now. I’ll see you in the sequel ‘Everything Between Us’]

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bang-tan-bitches · 4 years

Text

Title: Beloved

Word Count: 17.4k

Rating: M

Genre: Drama/Thriller/Smut

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Violence, Blood, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, Hint of Dubious Consent, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cream Pie, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Mild Dirty Talk

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi X Reader

Summary: Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win

Written By: Admin B

Note: This was entirely inspired by Daechwita and everyone should thank A for indulging my madness and encouraging me

“Are you even listening to me?”

You jerk at the sound of your younger sister’s voice, the long carriage ride has made you sleepy. You glance over at her and give her an indulgent smile, “I’m sorry, darling. I can only listen to you wax poetic about his Imperial Highness’ esteemed looks for so long before I lose interest.”

You can’t help but laugh when Ara snaps her fan closed and tries to hit you with it, but you block it with your own fan.

“Stop or you’ll wrinkle your dress!” You giggle, “Then what will his majesty think of you?!”

She sits back in her seat, but you can see her eyes are shining with laughter. She looks positively breathtaking in her pale pink ceremonial dress. Her hair is beautifully styled with pearls and ribbons laced throughout. Her maids really made her as eye catching as possible. When the decree was first announced that all single ladies of marriageable age were invited to the palace on behalf of the imperial princess to find a bride for his majesty, you were concerned. You know Ara had fallen hopelessly in love with the emperor the one and only time she saw him, having begged father to take her to court with him two years prior. Ever since then she had this fairy tale dream in her head that they were meant to be together and you were terribly afraid of her getting hurt.

“He really is beautiful,” her eyes are dreamy as she glances out the carriage window, “did I tell you how his hair is so pale that it practically shines like moonlight?”

“Yes, yes,” the sarcasm clear in your voice, “He is the most handsome and benevolent ruler our land has ever seen!”

“He is,” you sister insists, “even with the scar!”

“He has a scar? I thought that was just a rumor.” You look out the carriage window to see how far you are from the palace. The ride seemed longer than usual, but that could have just been your boredom with the topic. You had no interest in politics - not that that had stopped your father from teaching you - and avoided going to court as much as possible. You had never even been in the presence of the emperor or the imperial princess. Ara had no interest in politics either, but that didn’t stop her dreams of becoming Empress.

“Oh! It’s not a rumor!” Your sister straightens her posture, “There’s a scar that covers his right eye! He got it during the great war when he was still the crown prince.”

“Why didn’t he -”

“Why didn’t he have the Imperial healers treat him and remove the scar?” Your sister cuts you off before you can finish your question, “He wanted a reminder to never show leniency. He was betrayed by some of his own men that weren’t loyal to the crown. He slaughtered not only the betrayers, but also their entire families.”

You furrow your brows and fix the long sleeves of your ceremonial dress, uncomfortable with the emperor’s apparent brutality, “Sounds cruel.”

“It’s not cruel. He had to ensure that no one would try to get revenge. He was protecting our kingdom from those that would try to take it!”

“Of course, of course,” you placate your sister and roll your eyes at her fervent defense of his highness.

“Don’t roll your eyes, I’m terribly sorry everyone can’t be as noble as your dear Namjoon.”

You frown, “First of all, he is Lord Kim and he deserves your respect. Secondly, he isn’t my dear anything. Nothing has been finalized. There has only been talk of marriage, but no contracts are in place.”

Ara scoffs, “Everyone knows he absolutely adores you. His eyes get all big and his cheeks turn bright pink whenever he sees you.”

You smile wistfully and look down at your lap, “He is rather adorable.”

“Mmmhmm and if it was up to him you would already be married and probably with child.”

“Ara, it is impolite to discuss such things.” You scold gently, “What if someone overheard you?”

“Who?” Ara dramatically looks around the carriage before resting back against her seat, “Who can possibly hear us? There is only me and you in this carriage. No one is going to hear us.”

“Still, you need to be appropriate, you cannot slip up at the palace.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, Ara with closed eyes gently fanning herself while you contemplate how to bring up what’s been weighing heavily on your mind. Your younger sister was spoiled and had always gotten her way, even you were guilty of indulging her every whim. You were terribly worried that she would not adjust to court life well. Your understanding was that the women could be even more vicious than the men and you needed to prepare her.

You chew your lip before deciding to broach the delicate topic, “I heard another rumor about your emperor.”

“Mmm… what’s that?” Ara opens one eye to look at you.

“I heard,” you lean forward and lower your voice, “that his harem is… extensive.”

Ara pouts adorably, “It is. Apparently he has over 300 concubines.”

“300? That has to be an exaggeration. No man would want 300 concubines. Although,” you continue quietly, “he is the emperor and a large harem would show off his wealth and power. Does he have a favorite among them?”

“Ugh,” you watch Ara’s eyes darken in anger, “Concubine Nam In-Suk. She is his favored concubine and I heard the only reason she wasn’t named his empress is because Imperial Princess Min would not allow it.”

“Why would the emperor care what his elder sister thinks?” You already know the answers to all these questions, but you hope that asking them will help Ara realize what she needs to do to secure her place as empress. The carriage starts to slow, you were almost to the palace and wouldn’t have much time alone to prepare her going forward and no time alone once you’d arrived.

“She is his advisor and closest confidant. He trusts her with everything.”

“Ara,” you grab your sister’s hand and give her a meaningful look, “It is very important that you gain the favor of Imperial Princess Min. If you have her blessing, you will not be denied. Most of the silly girls will be striving for Emperor Min’s attention, not realizing that the imperial princess is making the final choice.”

Ara nods her head, determined. “I will gain her favor.”

“Also,” you know she will hate what you are about to suggest, but it has to be done, “You need to become friendly with Concubine Nam.”

“Never!” Ara gasps and tries to pull away, “As soon as I’m chosen as empress I will make him disband his harem!”

“Ara, you cannot!” You lean close and let the severity of your demand bleed into your tone, “You must become friendly and show you are not a threat.”

“But I am a threat…” she pushes her lip out in a pout.

You squeeze her hand, “I know, darling. But court politics are not that different from bedroom politics. He will not get rid of his harem just because you demand it. If Concubine Nam thinks she can manipulate and play you, she will be less of a threat. She has his ear and his favor. Let them think you are stupid little girl with stars in her eyes. It will bend them to your will.”

“But,” Ara’s voice is quiet, “I want him to love only me.”

“Oh my beloved Ara,” you hold her close to you, “these things take time. Once you bed him and provide an heir, you will secure your place at his side. He will have to love and cherish only you. How could he not?”

Her smile is blinding when the carriage stops outside the palace gates.

-0-0-0-

“Relax,” you whisper, “you are the most beautiful lady here. You have nothing to fear.”

Ara releases her bottom lip and nods subtly. When you had arrived at the palace earlier that day, you were welcomed inside to a large hall filled with other single young ladies and their chaperones, all from the most prominent families in the kingdom. Imperial Princess Min herself greeted everyone and announced that a welcome banquet would be held that evening. You were then ushered to your rooms where you could refresh yourselves before the evening. The Daisy Courtyard would serve as your temporary home for the next few weeks. It was a smaller courtyard, but it was beautiful and secluded and you were thankful to learn that it was nowhere near the concubine courtyard.

It was almost impossible to remember how quiet the courtyard was now.

Now, in the palace banquet room awaiting the arrival of the emperor for what felt like hours with the crowd growing more restless by the minute, you dearly missed the seclusion. Imperial Princess Min was present, drinking wine and enjoying the performance of the dancers brought in for entertainment. If she was upset with the late arrival of her brother, her face did not show it.

The music abruptly stops and everyone quiets down. The large golden doors at the back of the room are opened and an imperial servant steps in, placing their fisted hand over their heart, they bow and announce, “His Royal Highness, Emperor Min Yoongi, 37th Emperor of the Min Dynasty.”

Everyone immediately bows, giving reverence to the Emperor. He is dressed in the darkest black with gold dangling from his ears, neck, and fingers. His blond hair is pulled up into a high topknot and a black headband is across his forehead.

You notice a beautiful woman trailing a few steps behind him. She is covered in diamonds. They glitter from her shiny black hair down to the long train of her bright purple ceremonial dress. The dress itself is decorated in patterns of golden tigers, matching the pattern of the emperor’s black robe.

By the clenching of Ara’s hands, you realize that this must be Concubine Nam. You discreetly nudge your sister and mouth for her to relax.

The emperor takes his seat on his golden dragon throne, while his favored concubine sits obediently at his feet. His presence is overpowering and you can feel his displeasure radiating throughout the room.

“So… I was told that one of you will be this emperor’s bride and empress consort.” Emperor Min’s voice is deep and controlled, but the underlying fury is unmistakable. You can feel his eyes trail over the room, “Do you really think that one of you will enrapture this emperor? Do you truly believe one of you will become my chosen?”

Everyone is deathly silent, afraid of angering his highness even more. You can feel his penetrating gaze stop on you. You did not dare look upon the face of the emperor. You knew the rules of the court. You keep your eyes lowered and wait for his eyes to move past you.

They don’t.

You can still feel him staring at you and after several silent minutes you hesitantly look up and meet his eyes. You feel your breath catch in your throat. He is startlingly beautiful. His features are delicate but his scar provides him a hint of roguishness that accentuates his already extraordinary beauty.

His gaze is intense and you can feel his angry aura disappear to something unreadable. His dark eyes are burning with something as a devilishly handsome smile spreads across his face.

You quickly lower your eyes and ignore the chill down your spine and the heat spreading across your face. You now understand how your sister could be so enraptured with one look.

The emperor laughs, startling you into looking again. He’s staring at his sister and smiling. You can see Concubine Nam’s face screwed up, but staring at the floor. You look away quickly before he can feel your stare. His voice is filled with warmth and something else, something unsettling, “Maybe this emperor will finally meet his bride amongst the ladies here today. Rise and enjoy the welcome feast.”

Immediately servants present platters of food to the various tables and the music starts again. You ignore the burning gaze you feel on you and direct your attention to Ara.

“Make sure you eat. You have to be strong if you plan to carry the next heir of the kingdom.” You add more food to her plate.

“Yes, yes,” Ara giggles and pushes your hand away, “I could feel him staring in our direction. Did you feel it too?”

You force a smile, “Of course. How could he not stare at you. I told you that you were the most beautiful lady here.”

When it’s your turn to introduce yourselves to the royal family, you make sure to keep your head low and only make eye contact with Imperial Princess Min once you’re allowed to rise. Next to you, your sister does the same, following your example, even as you feel the hot eyes of the emperor on you once again. Ara pays a pretty compliment to the Princess, and you smile proudly when the Princess laughs delightedly and asks for your names.

“Oh, I remember you. And your father.” Princess Min says, a delicate finger resting on her bottom lip. She shares a look with her brother and you can feel the hateful eyes of Concubine Nam on you and your sister. You ignore her. You needed Ara to win over Princess Min before she won the hearts of anyone else. “I look forward to getting to know you once again. Both of you.”

You smile, and bow again before moving on to let the others greet the royal family.

Ignoring the heavy weight of Emperor Min’s gaze, you try to keep your sister distracted and engaged during the remainder of the banquet. For every goblet of wine your sister has, you make sure she also has a goblet of water. You don’t want her embarrassing herself in front of the other eligible ladies. You relax once the emperor’s gaze is no longer focused on you and take the chance to glance towards the throne, noticing the emperor in a deep discussion with his sister. The imperial princess has a strange smile on her face and is nodding her head along to whatever his highness is saying. You also notice that Concubine Nam is nowhere to be seen.

“Where did Concubine Nam go?”

“What?” Ara quickly looks around the large hall, her voice tinged with excitement, “Concubine Nam? His highness must have sent her away.”

"Strange..” you take a delicate bite of the fresh dumplings brought out by the servants, smiling a bit at how excited Ara is to find her possible rival missing, “I thought she never left his side.”

“Well…” Ara is interrupted by the arrival of an imperial maid. The maid bows her head respectively and holds a silver tray with a folded golden parchment.

You grab the parchment and slowly open it, quickly read the contents, fold it and place it back on the tray. “Please tell your mistress we accept.”

The maid bows and scurries away. You watch her go and keep a calm mask on your face, even as your heart is racing. You knew the point of these banquets and festivities was to find the Emperor a bride, but to receive an invitation so quickly… You notice many of the young ladies in attendance are watching and you refuse to show any sort of emotion.

Court was just a game of politics after all. And you intended to win. For Ara.

Ara grabs your hand under the table where no one can see, “What was that about?”

“Ara, did you bring that pretty pale green dress that grandfather gifted you for your birthday last year?” You take a sip of your wine, and keep your tone low.

“Of course.” Ara nods her head and grabs some fruit slices from one of the platters on the table, but by the tenseness of her shoulders, you could feel her excitement. You would have to instruct her on how to hide it better.

“Good. Wear it tomorrow.” You squeeze her hand, “we are invited to the morning meal with Imperial Princess Min.”

-0-0-0-

Imperial Princess Min’s courtyard and private rooms are absolutely gorgeous. Everything is draped in golds and pastels and smells of the fresh flowers that are placed throughout her rooms. The three of you sit at a finely crafted table in her pavilion, the only sounds are the bubbling of the large fountain nearby and the tinkling of the platters of food as they are placed upon the table before you.

“Thank you for joining me this beautiful morning.” Princess Min smiles sweetly at you both, once you rise from your bow, gesturing for a maid to pour tea, “I do hope you enjoy the meal.”

“We are honored to be invited by her majesty for a meal. Thank you.” You bow your head reverently and sit in the chair the maid has pulled out.

“Yes, thank you, your highness.” Your sister follows suit. The plates are quickly set with delicious smelling food, but you can only sip your tea, taking your cue from the princess who has barely glanced at her plate.

“Tell me,” Princess Min takes a dainty sip of tea, “Are you enjoying your time at the palace?”

“It is very beautiful here. We are forever indebted to the emperor and the imperial princess for allowing us to visit.” You keep your voice soft and your sister nods along, her cheeks slightly puffed with the food she has in her mouth.

“And your rooms…” Princess Min continues, directing a maid to put some kimchi on her plate, “are they to your liking?”

“Yes your majesty. The Daisy courtyard is beautiful. Thank you for gracing us with such lovely lodgings.”

The princess inclines her head briefly and smiles, “What do you think of the emperor?”

“Oh, he is wonderful. The best ruler our empire has ever seen.” Ara gushes enthusiastically, “May our emperor live ten thousand years!”

You and Princess Min share a small smile, both seeing that Ara is completely infatuated with his highness. You take a small bite of the delicious food on your plate as Ara continues to praise the emperor.

“And you?” Princess Min interrupts your sister and turns her gaze on you. Her dark eyes are so similar to her brother that it catches you off guard for a moment, “What do you think of the emperor?”

You didn’t understand why but you feel like your answer holds more weight than your sister’s. You lick your suddenly dry lips, smile demurely at the imperial princess and respond as blandly but nicely as possible, “His highness is a most generous and benevolent king.”

“That he is.” Princess Min smiles and glances at your sister, “And what are your thoughts on his harem?”

Your sister is quiet for a moment and you can see her struggling with finding what she wants to say, you gracefully answer for her, “I’m sure my sister would be most grateful to have others help serve the emperor.”

“Yes!” Ara nods eagerly, “I am most grateful that the emperor has many to keep him company.”

Princess Min hides a giggle behind her hand and you tilt your head, curious what could make the Princess giggle like that.

“Indeed. You may be grateful for the… help.”

Your eyes widen but Ara continues to look confused. You share a look with the Princess before she continues, “My brother, the Emperor, has a… healthy appetite.”

As if summoned by your discussion of him, your meal is interrupted by the arrival of a servant stepping into the pavilion, “His Royal Highness, Emperor Min Yoongi, 37th Emperor of the Min Dynasty.”

You and Ara quickly place down your chopsticks and stand from your seats to bow properly.

“You may rise.” The emperor’s voice is deeper than you remember. He is dressed in an informal black robe patterned with crimson lotus flowers. Thick golden necklaces rest against his collarbones and his pale hair is pulled up into another topknot. You notice that his long, golden earrings aren’t as extravagant as the ones he wore the night before. You and Ara quickly return to your seats.

“Here is my darling sister.” The Emperor gently kisses Princess Min’s cheek before sitting in the empty chair that is placed directly across from you by a servant. “I hope you do not mind if I join you three for the morning meal.”

“Imperial Brother I can see right through you.” Princess Min giggles, “You just want to look at my pretty company.”

You feel your breath hitch when the emperor locks eyes with you, a dangerous smile pulling at his full lips, “Can you blame me? I cannot remember the last time I’ve been so enchanted.”

Princess Min smiles and glances between you and your sister, “The sisters are true beauties.”

“Indeed,” The emperor's eyes flicker to your sister before focusing back on you, “It’s refreshing to know that a father did not exaggerate his claims of his daughters’ virtues.”

"Our beauty does not dare compare to the Imperial Princess." Your sister answers perfectly, the flattery clear in her voice. You see the smile spread across Princess Min’s face, clearly pleased with Ara’s answer.

Princess Min and Ara chatter for a while, the emperor occasionally joining the conversation, but his burning gaze never leaves your face. If anyone else notices his attention on you, they dare not mention it. You stay quiet, trying not to draw any attention away from Ara. You are proud of your sister, she is so poised as she engages in conversation with the royals. You were worried she would freeze up, or even worse, prattle on incessantly about nothing. You motion for a servant to refill your teacup and are startled when the emperor waives the servant away, refilling your cup himself. “Please, allow me.”

Everything stops around you at his actions, even the servants seem to freeze in place. You glance at your sister and the imperial princess, both completely in shock at the emperor’s generosity. Although you notice the imperial princess has a look of unbridled delight in her dark eyes.

“Thank you, your grace.” You incline your head and keep your face impassive. Only years of training drilled into you by your tutors prepared you for this. A lady must always be composed and even though you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest, you keep calm. You have no idea why his eminence would pour your tea as if he was your servant, but did not dare question his actions.

The silence lasts longer than is socially acceptable and when you dare to look at him, the emperor’s eyes are already focused on you. You can feel Ara’s eyes darting between the two of you, but you can only focus on the emperor. He opens his mouth to say something when your meal is interrupted by several maids rushing into the room. His eyes release you from your trance as he looks away.

You tell yourself that you’re grateful for the interruption.

“Your highness!!!” They all drop to their knees once they see the emperor, their heads touching the ground, “Your highness you must hurry. Concubine Nam has collapsed!”

You glance at the maids in alarm and look back at the emperor, his brows furrowed, “Have the imperial healers been summoned?”

“Of course, your highness.” The head maid answers, rising from her bow. You realize that they must have been the personal maids of Concubine Nam. The other maids remain on their knees, foreheads pressed to the ground.

The emperor turns away from the maids and takes a sip of his tea, dismissing them without words. You watch the head maid bite her lip before taking a step forward, “Please your highness, she is calling for you.”

You can see the displeasure on the emperor’s face. His eyes are angry, but the anger fades when he looks at you. He stares at you for a moment as if he’s waiting for your approval. You swallow and glance at the maids before meeting his gaze, “Your highness, please forgive this lowly maiden for speaking out of turn, but your beloved needs you. You should be at her side.”

“My beloved?” His voice is filled with mirth, and you wonder what is so humorous.

“Yes, your majesty.” You continue, licking your lips. His eyes follow your tongue. “Everyone knows she is your favored concubine. She needs you. You must attend to her.”

“You’re right.” His smile disarms you, again causing your breath to catch. “I must do what my beloved asks of me.”

With a swirl of his black robes, he is gone. The maids and his personal servants trailing behind him.

The silence left by the emperor’s abrupt departure is broken by the tired sigh of the Imperial Princess. “I apologize for Imperial Brother.”

“No, no,” you immediately respond, seeing a forlorn expression on the princess’ face, “It’s alright. Concubine Nam needs him. I do hope she is alright.”

“Yes, hopefully it is nothing serious.” Your sister cannot hide the distaste in her voice at the mention of the concubine.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious.” The princess laughs scornfully, “Concubine Nam always pulls some sort of devious trick whenever she thinks my brother’s attention might be taken away from her.”

You glance in the direction the emperor disappeared, “Does she?”

“Yes. It’s pathetic.”

You choke back a giggle when the princess rolls her eyes and instantly feel yourself relax.

“She thinks she has my brother wrapped around her finger. Always throwing a tantrum or faking some sort of illness.” She sneers and shakes her head, looking at you as if confiding something, “Several months ago, when I first spoke to my brother about finding a potential bride, I thought for sure that she would do something then, but it looks like the little bitch was just biding her time.”

“That is terrible.” If Ara is shocked at the vulgar language used by the princess, her face doesn’t show it. She is calm and poised and while you know she has a million questions she wants to ask, she is keeping her composure until the two of you are alone in your courtyard. “Hopefully his highness sees through her tricks.”

“She’s not half as clever as she thinks she is. He knows exactly what she is doing, but he indulges her.”

“I’m sure his majesty has his reasons,” you smile at the princess, “have faith in your brother.”

Princess Min stares at you, a contemplative look on her face. You don’t know what she is looking for, but after a few quiet moments she smiles beautifully, “Yes. Of course, you’re right. I have faith in the emperor. He was chosen by the gods to rule our kingdom.”

“May he live ten thousand years.” Ara says solemnly. You and Princess Min murmur in agreement.

“Still,” Princess Min’s voice is resolute as she gestures for a maid to refill her tea cup, “Concubine Nam cannot be trusted. Be careful.”

You sip your tea, pushing thoughts of the emperor’s dark eyes to the back of your mind and wonder just how much danger your sister is in.

-0-0-0-

When you return to your courtyard, servants are rushing around packing your trunks..

“Excuse me,” you feel bad interrupting one of the maids, but you have no idea what is going on and can’t help but fear the worst, “what is happening?”

“My lady,” the maid bows her head, “we have orders to move you and your sister to the Golden Bell courtyard.”

You frown and watch the servants continue to carry out your things, Ara clutches your hand, “On whose orders?”

“His Royal Highness.”

“As you were.” You dismiss the maid and turn towards Ara. You can see the excitement in her eyes. She’s practically vibrating. You nod for her to follow you out to the main yard where an imperial carriage is waiting to take you to your new courtyard.

“Sister,” She whispers, “The Golden Bell Courtyard. That’s closer to Imperial Princess Min’s private courtyard.”

“I know.”

-0-0-0-

The Golden Bell Courtyard is stunning. The main yard is filled with the fragrant Golden Bell flowers and the rooms were at least twice the size of your previous courtyard. Ara is practically giddy with excitement as she throws herself down on the large bed in the room you chose.

“He must already be in love with me.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” You were surprised Ara was able to contain herself until the servants left.

“Everything is so luxurious.”

“It is.” You sit yourself at the fancy dressing table in the corner of the room and check your reflection in the bronzed mirror, “You should get used to this.”

Ara giggles and snuggles into the soft bedding. You watch her through the mirror and smile at her behavior. She was still so young and you wish you could shelter her forever. You still worried about her marrying into the imperial family, but you felt a little better knowing that Imperial Princess Min seems to have warmed to her. “You need to thank his majesty at tonight’s banquet.”

“Of course.” Your sister smiles and throws a soft goose feather pillow in the air, “I will make sure to thank him for his hospitality.”

-0-0-0-

Unfortunately, Emperor Min is not at the banquet that night. In fact, you were informed, for the next fourteen days he would not be attending any of the events Imperial Princess Min had scheduled.

You can tell the princess is upset. Her smile seems a little more strained and while she is able to handle everything as a hostess should, you can tell she is very stressed about whatever the emperor is currently handling. You have a strong suspicion it is related to Concubine Nam, but it is not your place to ask questions so you remain quiet. You do, however, try your best to help where you can, becoming a steadfast and loyal companion to her majesty, continuing to have meals with her whenever she requests and spending many afternoons in her pavilion with her. She would ask your opinions of the young ladies from the different households and tell you about what would be required of the empress consort. As the days moved along, the princess dismissed more and more of the potential brides for his majesty until only a handful were left. You were pleased that Ara seems to be the favorite.

You sit across from the Imperial Princess. She sent you a note at the morning meal requesting you to join her in her plum blossom garden this afternoon. You can tell the princess is upset. Her lips are pursed and her fingers are white as she grips her cup of tea tightly. You're afraid the delicate cup might crack.

“Your majesty’s plum blossom garden is beautiful. It must be the most fragrant and lovely plum blossom garden in all of the empire.”

Imperial Princess Min gives you a soft smile. She dismisses the servants and they step back so they are out of hearing range, but close enough to see if her highness requires anything.

“Concubine Nam is with child.”

You are silent for a moment. You keep yourself composed and don’t dare show your thoughts on your face. Your mind is frantically trying to process what this means. How could this have happened? What does this mean for Ara?

You swallow and gently speak, “Princess Min, please forgive this simple one for questioning, but I thought it was against the imperial law for a concubine to bear children?”

“It is.” Princess Min throws her tea cup on the ground in anger, two imperial maids rush over to clean up the shattered mess and prepare another cup of tea for her majesty. Once the servants step away, the Princess continues, “She stopped drinking the herbal tea the day my brother agreed to find a bride.”

“Will Concubine Nam be punished?” You don’t look at the princess when you ask, you focus on the full cup of tea in front of you.

“If she is punished, it won’t be until after she gives birth.” Princess Min takes a small bite of sweet cake, “The little bitch thinks the emperor will make her his empress consort.”

“Will he?”

“No,” Princess Min gives you a reassuring smile, “He will choose someone most deserving.” Her eyes shift as she stares at you until you feel you have to look away. “He’s been diligently working on preparing everything for his chosen consort. That and this unfortunate incident with Concubine Nam has kept him busy.”

You feel relief to know that Concubine Nam’s schemes do not seem to be working. And from the knowing smile the princess gives you, you feel elated that Ara will definitely be chosen as the consort. “What of the child?”

“The child will be recognized as a prince of the kingdom, but not an heir. Only the Empress can provide an heir.” Princess Min still looks unhappy, “I hope this won’t affect things going forward.”

It almost sounds like a question, as if she’s asking you if it will affect things. But you know that can’t be. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This news will be upsetting to Ara, but not all is lost. This can still be salvaged. She could still marry and become the empress. Her child will still be the rightful heir. “No, I’m sure my sister will love any child that his highness produces.”

“Oh, yes, of course your sister would.” Princess Min gives you a curious smile, her dark eyes shining as if she’s amused. She takes your free hand in hers, “I hope I can request your confidence in this matter.” She says and gives your hand an almost too tight squeeze, “This must not be told to anyone.”

“Of course,” You nod your head solemnly, “I won’t say a word.”

-0-0-0-

The Emperor continues to absent himself from any events involving the possible consorts for the next several days. Even though it had yet to be announced, you knew he had already decided on an empress consort, therefore he did not need to attend any of the lavish events and parties his sister had scheduled. Though as the days progress and nothing more happens, you grow more and more concerned over Ara’s position until finally you are moved again to an even larger, more extravagant courtyard.

The Mugunghwa Courtyard.

The Mugunghwa Courtyard was reserved for the empress consort and is located directly next to the emperor’s private courtyard. The servants treat you and your sister like royalty, you are given the same respects the emperor and his sister are provided. Ara is enjoying the envious glares she receives from the other ladies and you allow her to enjoy her victory, but remind her to be polite and courteous to the servants because they will be her eyes and ears to what is happening in the other courtyards(including the harem).

Soon after you’re comfortably moved into the Mugunghwa Courtyard, the gifts begin arriving. Some days when you return to your rooms after the festivities, you find fresh Mugunghwa flowers on your bed. One morning you wake up and find a bottle of sweet perfumed oil. You know that it isn’t uncommon for a groom to bestow gifts upon his bride’s family, but you’re a little uncomfortable as the days progress and the gifts become more elaborate. Silk slippers, golden hairpieces, diamond necklaces… it’s all too much. Ara has also been receiving small gifts, flowers and oils. You don’t know why, but you don’t mention the jewelry or clothing to her.

You continue to spend time with Imperial Princess Min, her personal servants would invite you, and only you, to have a private audience with her almost daily. Once, you asked her where the emperor was, as you had not seen him since breakfast almost a week ago. She had smiled at you as if you’d said the one thing she longed to hear, and informed you he’d been out of the palace. Taking care of business. But assures you that he would return soon.

“If you would like, we can invite him to breakfast again.” She takes your arm and giggles, as if breakfast with her brother is against the rules. “But I might get jealous if my soon-to-be sister pays more attention to my brother than me.”

Your heart soars at her words. This is practically confirmation that Ara will be chosen!

She keeps you updated on the goings on with Concubine Nam. The child is growing strong, and Concubine Nam has already started showing a small bump on her otherwise perfect body. While you never wish harm on anyone, you cannot hide your small sense of satisfaction when you're told that Concubine Nam is visibly distraught over the fact that the emperor has not once visited her since she collapsed.

You are still very concerned about Ara finding out about the pregnancy. You have kept your word and stayed silent on the matter, but you know Ara’s bubble of happiness will burst once she is made aware. You spend many of your days touring the multiple gardens of The Mugunghwa Courtyard in contemplation, trying to decide if you should tell Ara what is happening.

You’re taking a leisurely stroll in the hibiscus garden when you suddenly feel like you’re being watched. This happens most days when you’re alone in the gardens, but no one is ever around so you dismiss it as your imagination. You startle when you hear the emperor’s deep voice call your name.

You spin around quickly and meet the burning gaze of the emperor. He’s dressed in his signature black robe, but this one is patterned with dark blue koi fish. His pale hair is pulled back in a low ponytail with a black headband across his forehead. Today he is wearing one long golden earring and a heavy golden choker around his throat.

You briefly wonder if he would adorn his Empress in so much gold.

“Your highness!” You immediately remember yourself and bow low.

You are still bent low and staring at the ground when you see a long black robe come into view. You feel a gentle finger under your chin and your head is tilted up until you’re standing again and staring directly up into the emperor’s perfect face.

He continues to stare at you, his eyes swirling with emotion. His finger moves from your chin to rub along your bottom lip and your eyes close involuntarily. He leans closer and you can smell the clean scent of his skin. You feel his breath on your lips…

The sound of a throat clearing jolts you. You snap your eyes open and immediately step away from the emperor’s personal space. Emperor Min is glaring heatedly at a eunuch who is standing several feet behind him. The eunuch looks apologetic, but you are grateful.

“Your majesty, are you also here to tour the gardens?” You can feel your cheeks heat and you absentmindedly smooth out your dress. “The hibiscus garden is especially fragrant this time of year.”

His eyes are gentle when he looks at you. He gives you a soft smile, “No. I am here to see you.”

“Me? I do not know what I have done to deserve your attention. How can I help his majesty?”

Emperor Min’s voice is serious, “You deserve more than my attention. You deserve everything.”

You turn away from his penetrating gaze, focusing on a nearby flower, “Your highness has been very kind to me and my sister. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Do not thank me.” The emperor chuckles, “I am a king. I always have an ulterior motive.”

You realize he is most likely speaking of Ara. As Ara’s elder sister, you know you have the most influence over her and her opinions. He is trying to gain your favor so she will be more likely to accept his suit, but he must know that Ara is already in love with him. Princess Min would never keep that information from him.

“I have a gift for you.”

“Another gift?” You look up at his handsome face, “I couldn’t possibly accept anything else. You’ve been so generous already.”

Faster than you can blink, his face is so close to yours, you can feel the brush of his lips as he speaks, his hand on your chin and eyes locked with yours.

“I am the emperor. It is my divine right to give what I want, and to take what I want. Do you understand?”

You blink and quickly lower your eyes, unable to bow your head, “Yes, your highness.”

He moves away and you catch yourself before you can stumble from the suddenness of it all.

“Eunuch Ki.” Emperor Min gestures and the eunuch steps forward holding a small wooden box, golden dragons painted on it. Eunuch Ki opens the box and you cannot stop your gasp when the contents are revealed. A beautifully hand carved jade bracelet is nestled within. You can see that your name is engraved in it along with the symbols of beauty and love.

Emperor Min holds out his hand, waiting for you to give him yours. You place your hand in his and watch quietly as he gently pushes up the sleeve of your dress. His hand is so much larger than yours and you shiver when his thumb gently rubs along your wrist.

Eunuch Ki hands him the bracelet and he tenderly clasps it around your wrist.

“Perfect.”

You feel something inside you stir, “It’s lovely.”

“Not as lovely as the wrist it adorns,” he meets your eyes, “it becomes you.”

You know you should pull away, part of you desperately wants to pull away. But he is the Emperor, and you know better.

“Ara loves her gifts too!” You blurt out, trying desperately to control the way your heart is pounding.

His face scrunches in thought and he tilts his head, “Ara… yes. Your sister. I’m glad she enjoys her gifts as well.” He raises your hand, flips it in his, and places a kiss on the inside of your wrist, lips brushing the cool jade beads. “Don’t take it off.” He commands, before leaving you alone once more.

-0-0-0-

After that, you did not go into the gardens alone, always making sure Ara or Princess Min is with you. While you never did run into the Emperor in the gardens again, you still sometimes felt his burning gaze on you, but when you looked around, he was never there.

Today, you and Ara are staying in your own courtyard. You feel that both of you need a break from court. You know you certainly do. You have already had your morning meal in your rooms and were currently relaxing in one of the many drawing rooms. You smile as Ara pricks her finger again on her needlework. “Be careful Ara. A lady's hands should be soft and delicate.”

You can’t hide your laughter at the adorable glower she gives you. “Why do I have to do this? When I’m empress, I’ll have the royal seamstresses do this for me.”

“It’s a good skill to have and maybe your husband would want a personalized gift from you.”

Ara pouts but doesn’t say anything else. You sit in comfortable silence, her trying to embroider and you snacking on small sweet cakes. The days seem to be getting slightly cooler and you were appreciative. You didn’t know how long this consort selection was going to take, but you were already longing for home. You had written several letters to your father, letting him know of Ara’s progress and wanting to hear any news from home. You were hoping maybe your marriage to Lord Kim would be finalized, but unfortunately, there was no news about that. Your father seemed to avoid mentioning Lord Kim at all. As for Lord Kim himself, you sent him a few brief letters asking after his health and wellbeing, but had yet to receive a response. He was normally very quick to reply to your letters, but you brushed off his lack of response due to the fact that he must be very busy.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of several imperial servants and a finely dressed eunuch. They are carrying two large golden trunks and place them down in front of you and your sister. The eunuch steps forward and bows low.

“My ladies,” You recognize the eunuch as the emperor’s most trusted servant, Eunuch Ki, the one who was at his side in the hibiscus garden, “His Royal Highness would be most pleased if the mistresses would accept his gifts.”

You and Ara share a look and you quickly stand from the soft, golden sofa, “Thank you, Eunuch Ki. We are honored to receive gifts from his eminence.”

The large golden trunks are opened and you can hear Ara’s gasp of delight. The emperor has provided each of you a ceremonial dress made of fine, silk fabric and beautiful hair ornaments. Ara’s dress is a gorgeous light blue patterned with silver butterflies. The matching hair ornament is a hair pin styled in beautiful swirls of silver and jade, a single butterfly resting on top.

Your dress is colored a rich gold and patterned with black mandarin ducks, diamonds line the long sleeves and train. The matching hair ornament is also a hair pin, but it looks to be solid gold with two mandarin ducks resting on top of a bed of orchids made out of diamonds. You hesitate at the pattern on the dress, unsure if this is a mistake.

“If it pleases the mistresses, his highness requests you wear his gifts to the Grand Banquet tomorrow evening.”

“Of course, we would be delighted.” Ara beams at Eunuch Ki when you don’t respond right away, your eyes still focused on the pattern on your dress.

“Eunuch Ki,” you follow him to the entrance of the drawing room, your voice quiet so others cannot overhear, “I feel there might be a mistake.” You gesture to your dress and your eyes flicker towards an oblivious Ara.

Eunuch Ki eyes you for a moment, his look is heavy and almost pitying, “The Emperor does not make mistakes.”

You swallow hard and nod at Eunuch Ki, closing the door behind him and turn to look at Ara. She’s already holding the dress up against herself and admiring it in the mirror.

The Emperor might not make mistakes, but you were beginning to think you had.

-0-0-0-

You slowly make your way towards the courtyard of the imperial princess. After Eunuch Ki had left last night, you received a summons from the Imperial Princess. She requested you to meet her for afternoon tea the following day before the grand banquet.

This side of the palace was oddly quiet. You knew that everyone was preparing for the grand banquet, so all the activity would be much livelier near the grand banquet hall. You had yet to see that hall, apparently it was large enough to hold all the noble families of the kingdom comfortably.

When you enter her private pavilion, Imperial Princess Min is reclining on a giant resting sofa, a servant girl fanning her.

“Your highness.” You bow your head reverently and wait for her to receive you.

She smiles beautifully and sits up, her dark eyes shining beautifully, as she holds her hands out to you, “I’m so glad you are here.”

“Your Highness flatters me.” You go to her, smiling as you take her hands in your own before releasing them to gesture to the ornately carved tea table in the corner, “Afternoon tea?”

“Yes, we have much to discuss.” Princess Min stands up and elegantly makes her way to the table, you follow obediently behind her. Once you are both seated, Princess Min gestures for a servant to pour tea.

“Are you excited for tonight’s banquet?” Princess Min takes a sip of her tea, “I’m so very excited and the banquet isn’t even for me.”

“Of course, tonight is a grand occasion. It deserves to be celebrated properly.” You swallow a sip of tea and look around the beautiful pavilion. “Thank you so much for the hospitality you have shown my sister and I. Your kindness will never be forgotten.”

Princess Min smiles at you and chatters about the drama currently happening in the harem courtyard, Concubine Nam was still holding hope that Emperor Min would choose her as his bride, while the other concubines were furious over her blatant violation of the rules. You listen and chime in when necessary, indulging in Princess Min’s love for gossip.

“What would you do with Concubine Nam and the harem?” Princess Min asks you, her voice curious, “How would you handle this entire scandal?”

“Well,” You ponder over her question for a moment. She had asked you similar questions before, but usually about how you would handle this political issue or that. Never one quite so close to home. You take another sip of tea, deciding how to answer without offending her, “an example would have to be made.”

“What kind of example?” Princess Min tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes swirling with something, “if you had the power, what would you do?”

“If I had the power?” You gesture for a servant to pour you another cup of tea and laugh softly, “If I had the power, my husband would not have a harem at all.”

Princess Min stares at you, her eyes practically glowing, “No harem? A normal man would not agree to your terms.”

You smile, “I will not marry just any man. I will marry a man solely devoted to me.”

The Princess giggles beautifully, “I love your way of thinking.”

“Well,” you giggle along with the princess, “My way of thinking isn’t something that is approved of. Luckily for his majesty, Ara will gladly allow him his harem.”

The princess quiets down and gestures for a servant to place a small, sweet cake on both of your plates. Her smile is sweet, “Tell me…”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head in question and take a small sip of tea.

Princess Min’s voice is light and soft, “when are you going to stop playing ignorant?”

You still completely, your stomach bubbling with dread. You keep your face calm and composed, but your heart is beating rapidly. After a brief silence, you question, “Pardon? Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re a very clever woman, it’s why I like you so much.” Her sweet smile never leaves her face, but her eyes are dark and cold. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“No,” You keep your voice firm, “I do not know what you mean at all.”

Princess Min’s smile widens, but her dark eyes are unsettling, “Did you enjoy Imperial Brother’s latest gift?”

You slowly set your tea cup on the table, “His highness gives the most thoughtful gifts, we are forever in his debt.”

“You know, he chose the pattern and colors himself.”

“About that,” you lick your lips before continuing, “Eunuch Ki gave me the golden dress by mistake.”

“Oh you are good. For someone who claims they have no interest in court or politics, that is. Though you need a little more training before you sit in on a council.” The Princess takes a bite of cake, her eyes flashing, “I don’t recommend playing dumb with me, however.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”

The Princess ignores your remark, “Have you heard of my betrothed? Prince Regent Jung Hoseok. He’s the general of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course,” your mind frantically tries to understand where the connection is, “He has helped the emperor win many battles.”

“Did you know that he was betrothed before?”

You shake your head, but don’t reply. You have no idea what this discussion has to do with the emperor’s gifts, but you didn’t dare interrupt or question her.

“He grew up in the palace here with Imperial Brother and I. My father, the emperor at the time, practically raised him as one of his own. He was Imperial Brother’s companion and also to be his general in war. I had been in love with him since I was very young. He was all I ever wanted.” Princess Min Glances off into the distance, as if she’s reminiscing, “For his outstanding work as the General of the Imperial Army, my father gifted him a marriage to a nobleman’s daughter... Lord Tokko’s only daughter, Yeong.”

Lord Tokko’s name was vaguely familiar to you, you had heard your father mention him a few times. As for his daughter, you had never heard of this woman, but by the tone of Princess Min’s voice and the frown on her face, you know it was someone that the princess did not like.

“The Prince Regent agreed to the marriage, he actually cared for her, thought himself to be in love,” The princess scoffs and takes a small sip of tea, “It was not hard for me to get my father to agree to have Lady Yeong come to the palace to serve as a friend and companion for me.”

“She was one of the kindest, sweetest, young women I had ever met.” The Princess locks eyes with you, “So trusting that even as she lay dying, it never crossed her mind that I was the one that poisoned her.”

You're quiet for several moments, trying to gather your thoughts. Your voice is a little shaky when you finally ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

Princess Min ignores you once again, “We thought the sickness had skipped my brother. It usually only manifests itself in the women in my family, my grandmother had it too, you know?”

“What sickness?” You are growing more alarmed. The Princess was revealing information and secrets that you should not know and you did not understand her reasoning.

Again, Princess Min ignores you, continuing her story as if she were a player on stage and you the enraptured audience, “He never showed any symptoms, not a care in the world for anyone but himself. The closest he came was Concubine Nam, but nothing serious ever happened with her. He would never make her his consort, so I knew she wasn’t the one.”

“Imagine my elation when you finally arrived. You have turned out to be all we hoped for and more.” Princess Min smiles at you beautifully, her dark eyes shining almost manically, “The moment he saw you, your fate was sealed.”

Before today, having Princess Min’s confidence made you feel warm and welcomed. Now you only feel dread.

“I.. I...” You lick your too dry lips and stumble over your words, your composure crumbling in the wake of the Imperial Princess’ confession, “I am to be married to Lord Kim. My father is working out the contracts.”

“Lord Kim?” The princess giggles, “My brother wanted to strip him and his family of their lands and titles, but I was able to talk him back from that.”

“I don’t understand.” You feel cold all over.

“Yes, you do.” The princess gestures and a maid comes forward holding a silver tray, the princess grabs the small bundle of letters and tosses them on the table, “You’re lucky that I was able to intercept these before Imperial Brother read them. If he knew you were writing to another man, he would have Lord Kim beheaded.”

You’re quiet, staring at the letters you wrote to Lord Kim asking after his health. The letters he never received. Too much was going through your mind. What about Ara?

“My father-”

“Your father has already agreed and I was able to have Imperial Brother gift a marriage to Lord Kim.” Princess Min’s voice is pleasant, as if she's discussing the weather, “Your sister will be his bride.”

You stand abruptly from the table, your chair clattering to the floor behind you. You feel shaken and terrified. You knew something was off, but you were hoping, praying, you were wrong.

“Please excuse me, your majesty.” You step back from the table, your eyes slightly glassy, “I need to rest before tonight’s banquet.”

“Please, call me Ji-Soo…,” The princess smiles at you, her dark eyes are filled with what you now recognize as madness, the same look found in the emperor’s eyes when he looks at you,

“..We’re family after all.”

-0-0-0-

When you arrive back at your courtyard, your mind is still struggling to comprehend what is happening. You rush past the servants and lock yourself in your room. You stare at the beautiful golden dress laid out on your bed, the diamonds twinkling as if mocking you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Ara is supposed to be empress.

You slide to the floor, your back against the door. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You stare at the dress, but your mind isn’t focused on it. You’re trying to think, trying to plan. What are you supposed to do? You don’t even entertain the thought that your father will save you. You have no choice. Emperor Min holds all the power.

You don’t realize that hours have passed with you staring blankly at the dress until the servants knock on your door. “My lady, we are here to prepare you for the banquet.”

“I don’t need help to prepare. Please leave me.”

“My lady,” The voice of the maid is trembling, fearful, “The emperor insists.”

You swallow and stand, your legs shaky. You open the door and stare at the servants, they are terrified. Terrified of the emperor, terrified of his displeasure. You realize that you and them are not so different. No one has a choice. Everyone is subject to Emperor Min’s whims.

“Where is Ara?”

“She has already been prepared for the banquet.” Several servants rush in carrying a large washing tub filled with steaming water. The water is fragrant and several flowers are flowing on the surface.

You watch a large dressing screen being set up around the tub, several of the servants bow low to you before quickly leaving the room. You look at them questioningly and an older maid steps forward, “Forgive us, my lady. We are under strict instructions and not allowed to help you undress or bathe.”

“What? Why?”

The maid licks her lips and hangs several white undergarments over the dressing screen, “The emperor made a new decree that it is a crime punishable by death for anyone other than the emperor himself to view the empress consort’s nude body.”

It’s a jarring experience to be referred to as the empress consort.

“It- it is not official.”

You want to scream at them that this is wrong. That you’re not even betrothed, that this isn’t supposed to be you.

They won’t meet your eyes.

The jade bracelet on your wrist slides, warm beads against cool skin, and that’s when you realize all the mistakes you have made. You can’t stop the heavy weight you feel in your chest. You can feel your lips begin to tremble and your eyes feel watery. You don’t want to cry, but you know you should because you have the horrible feeling that once you are announced as the chosen empress consort at the banquet, the emperor will not let you out of his sight.

The maid smooths over any imaginary wrinkles in the undergarments and gives you a pitying look, “Please get dressed in these once you are finished and we will prepare you for the banquet.”

You’re left alone and you robotically remove your dress and undergarments. The water is hot and relaxing and it soothes your frazzled nerves. You lean your head back against the washing tub, you can hear the maids quietly talking behind the dressing screen. Your mind is racing. You are a smart girl. Your father has always praised your brilliance and forward thinking and lamented over you not being born a boy. You could figure this out. You could find a way out.

There is obviously something seriously wrong with the Imperial siblings. The Princess herself confessed to murdering a love rival and the emperor has never shown any sign of this alleged sickness until now. Concubine Nam is carrying his child. You’ve already told Princess Min about your distaste of the harem. You refuse to have a husband that continues to keep a harem of concubines.

But you know, you know, you could not refuse the emperor’s suit. You did not have any choice in the matter. While this is not the outcome that you nor Ara want, you know that your father will be pleased. All men want is power. They do not care for who they hurt or how they use their children like pawns. Your father will be the father-in-law of the emperor, his position and power will be secured.

The water is cold when you finally decide to step out of the washing tub. You resolve yourself to your future. Being the Empress Consort is not the worst fate you can have, but you were fearful of your sister’s reaction. She will hate you.

You slowly put on your undergarments and step out from behind the screen. The maids eagerly rush you over to the large dressing table and sit you down. You stare at your worn reflection in the large, ornate mirror.

Several maids kneel at your sides, dipping your fingers and toes in a dark paste. Other maids rub scented lotion onto your arms and legs. You watch through your reflection as the older maid rearranges your hair into an intricate updo, her skilled hands working effortlessly.

Your voice is a little hoarse when you speak, but you clear your throat and look at the older maid, “Will you be my personal servant?”

“Of course,” The maid gives you a warm smile, “His highness chose me personally to care for his bride.”

You give her a strained smile in return, neither of you mention the fact that the emperor chose servants that would be loyal to him. It wasn’t uncommon for a bride to bring a handful of trusted servants with them to their new home, but these aren’t normal circumstances. You would truly be alone here. “May I know your name?”

“Unso.”

“Unso.” You say the name carefully, “Please take good care of me.”

“My absolute pleasure.” She beams and gestures to your hair, the golden hairpin shining on top. The hairstyle is extravagant and more beautiful than any you have ever worn. The other maids clean the dark paste off your fingers and toes, revealing the nails to be stained a pretty red. Another servant brings a small jar of white cream and rubs it onto your face. You sit still as makeup is applied to your face. Your lips are painted a dark red and your eyes are lined with kohl. A small, delicate mugunghwa flower is painted in red and black between your eyebrows.

You stand and the maids help you dress in the beautiful golden dress. They take their time making sure everything is perfect. When you are fully dressed, the servants all stand back and stare at their hard work.

“Mistress is the most beautiful!”

“The Emperor has chosen well!”

“Her beauty is unparalleled!”

“An absolute vision!”

“His highness will be most pleased!”

The praises are interrupted by Eunuch Ki. He gives you a once over before nodding to Unso, “Excellent. Make sure everything is prepared as instructed.”

Unso nods her head and steps back.

“My lady,” Eunuch Ki bows low to you, “Please allow me to escort you to the banquet hall.”

You look around nervously, “But Ara-”

“Your sister is already at the banquet.”

“I see.” You nod your head realizing you don’t have a choice, “I would be honored for Eunuch Ki to escort me.”

He gives you another low bow and turns to lead the way out of your rooms. Unso gives you an encouraging smile and you nod your head in return. Eunuch Ki leads you out of your courtyard to an extravagant imperial carriage. From the design and brilliance, you can tell that this is the emperor’s personal carriage.

The ride to the grand banquet hall is quiet. You’re positive that you’re shaking in your seat. Eunuch Ki is watching you, but he doesn’t comment on your nerves. The carriage comes to a stop and the door is opened by an imperial guard. Eunuch Ki steps down first. You follow slowly behind him, all the servants and guards bowing in your presence.

The long walk to the banquet hall seems to last seconds. You can feel sweat beading on your forehead and you are distractedly worried that all the servants' hard work on your face paint will come undone. The closer you get to the hall, the louder the music and laughter from inside becomes. You can hear that it is a grand celebration and you worry for a moment that you are late.

Eunuch Ki stops several feet away from the double doors. He gives you a sad smile and leans close to you, “An empress does not show fear. An empress does not show despair.”

You nod your head in understanding, straighten your back and hold your head high. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest; the expectations of the kingdom weighing on your shoulders. You can feel the sinking feeling in your stomach that Ara will never forgive you. You desperately hope she can understand.

You do not have a choice.

“Please open the doors.”

The large golden doors are heavy, requiring several servants to push them open. A loud chime is heard from the inside of the room. Eunuch Ki steps forward and announces your arrival, but you cannot hear him over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears.

You step forward and you can feel all eyes are on you, but the only eyes you can focus on are the emperor’s. Dark, calculating, mad. He’s not dressed in his customary black, but gold. His ceremonial robes are a bright gold patterned with black mandarin ducks, matching yours. His long hair is unbound, a glittering crown is placed upon his brow. He is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. You take several slow steps into the room and make your way towards the emperor. Before you reach him, Princess Min steps forward, a handsome man you recognize as Prince Regent Jung Hoseok at her side. The couple is dressed in matching colors. Royal blue and patterned with silver bats. Princess Min leans close to you and kisses both your cheeks. She pauses to whisper a quiet, “Good Girl,” that only you can hear. Prince Regent Jung gives you a low bow.

You bow in return to the Princess and her betrothed. The room is still deathly quiet. When you finally reach the emperor, he stares at you as if you are the only thing he has ever wanted. You prepare to bow, but Emperor Min stops you, “From this moment forward, you bow to no one.”

You swallow and nod your head. Emperor Min continues staring at you, his eyes swirling with equal parts happiness and madness. Eunuch Ki steps forward holding a golden goblet. You stare at the goblet and then look at the emperor in horror. This isn’t right. You realize quickly that this is no ordinary celebration banquet.

This is a wedding.

You quickly look away, desperately searching for Ara. Slim fingers grip your chin tightly, you can feel the cold metal of his rings pressing into your skin. Your face is turned back to the Emperor.

“Who is the king?” His voice is quiet, but firm, “Who is the boss?”

You stare into his cold eyes. He knows he has you trapped and he knows there is nothing you can do. While you want to believe that you had reconciled yourself with your fate, you had truly hoped that you had more time to find a way out. But there is no way out.

After a few moments, you nod your head in understanding and open your mouth to accept a drink from the goblet. Emperor Min takes the goblet from Eunuch Ki and holds it to your lips. His smile is gentle, but his eyes are filled with triumph as you drink.

The rice wine is sweet but you barely taste it. You swallow a large gulp and lick your lips. The emperor’s eyes darken as he watches you and his smile widens. He gently places the goblet into your hands and you carefully hold it up to his lips. He takes several large gulps, but never breaks eye contact with you.

Eunuch Ki grabs the goblet from you and before you know what is happening, you’re in the emperor’s embrace. One of his hands cup the back of your head as the other holds you tightly by the waist, “Finally, you’re mine.”

His kiss catches you off guard and you close your eyes involuntarily. You know that kissing is improper for a wedding ceremony and should only be done in private, but no one would dare question the emperor. His lips are soft and taste of the rice wine you just drank. When his tongue gently coaxes your lips open, you do not resist. Your fingers grip his shoulders and you cannot stop yourself from melting into him.

When he finally releases you, you steady yourself against him. You’re in a daze as the emperor leads you to the royal table. You stand quietly at his side as he raises a glass of wine in a toast, “To my new bride, your new empress!”

The hall is filled with thunderous applause and cheering. Your moves are robotic as the emperor instructs you to sit next to him. He fills your plate with all your favorite delicacies and pours you a cup of tea. The musicians start playing music again and the murmur of conversations start up around you. You glance around the hall and realize that all the eligible young ladies that were prospective consorts are wearing matching dresses. Light blue and patterned with butterflies. The same dress that Ara was gifted.

You look around for Ara and you find her seated between your father and Lord Kim. Your father and Lord Kim seem to be in a serious conversation. Ara looks calm and composed, but her eyes betray her. You can see her unhappiness and your heart aches.

“Beloved,” You’re jolted by the emperor’s deep, somber voice, “Don’t worry about your sister. She will be taken care of. Lord Kim will make her happy.”

It takes you a moment to respond, but you do so quietly, “My sister’s only happiness will always be with the emperor.”

The emperor glances in the direction of your sister and then turns back to you, his smile is sweet, “You are a good sister, but it’s time you put your happiness first.”

You’re puzzled, “My happiness?”

“Your happiness.” Emperor Min kisses your lips softly, “To be my bride. To be my queen. To be mine.”

You stare at him incredulously, and realize he truly believes that you are happy being his bride. He really thinks you wanted this and were only holding yourself back for Ara’s sake. Princess Min gives you a knowing smile from across the table. You sit in a daze as the night progresses. The emperor would let no other serve you, but himself, constantly refilling your plate and cup.

You can feel the angry glare of Concubine Nam on you from across the hall and when you finally meet her gaze, you're startled to realize that she’s also wearing the same light blue dress, patterned with silver butterflies, that Ara was gifted. In fact, all the concubines are dressed this way.

Concubine Nam’s face is fuller and glowing beautifully. Her soft, demure persona would be more believable if her eyes weren’t filled with hatred. You’re secretly pleased that her plan to trap the emperor has failed. If she was smart, she would try to gain favor with you, but instead she will most likely plot to poison you. You give her a small nod of acknowledgement and she sneers in return before turning away.

The night drags on and you're exhausted from trying to keep a happy facade. You catch your shoulders drooping more often than not, and even feel yourself lean against the emperor a time or two.

When it is finally time to receive congratulations from the representatives from the noble families, you stay quiet at the emperor’s side. You smile when needed and murmur thanks when prompted. Everything feels unreal.

When your family steps forward, you try to catch Ara’s eyes. She nods her head at Princess Min and bows low to you, “Your highness, many happy wishes on your marriage. May the gods bless you with healthy sons.”

Her voice is cold and you can see the hatred in her eyes. You grab her hand, “Ara please, you must understand.”

“Understand that my sister is a liar?” Ara raises her voice and pulls away from you, “Understand that she is a snake who planned this?!”

“Ara, no.” Your voice cracks and you can feel tears brimming in your eyes, your exhaustion and stress finally catching up to you, “You are my most beloved sister. I would never-”

“And yet, here you are.” Ara’s voice is mocking, “Empress.”

The scene your sister is making draws the attention of your father and Emperor Min, who were in the middle of a quiet conversation near you. Even Princess Min is frowning from where she is seated, obviously hearing the raise of Ara’s voice.

“Enough.” The emperor’s voice is cold as he glares furiously at Ara, “You dare to show disrespect to your empress?”

“She tricked you! Can’t you see she tricked you?!” Ara ignores the dangerous aura surrounding Emperor Min, “It was supposed to be me! I am supposed to be your queen. I love y-”

“Guards. Detain her. Disrespect to the empress is punishable by death.”

You can see the fear on Ara’s face, she backs away quickly, but the guards grab her. Your father looks alarmed and even Lord Kim looks fearful for your sister’s life. You look at the emperor and grip his arm tightly, “Please, please do not punish her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“She dared to disrespect you. She doesn’t deserve to live.”

“Please,” You beg him, you look at Ara’s fearful face and close your eyes in dismay, you know she will hate you even more after this. You firm your resolve and open your eyes, “She’s only a child.”

You press yourself against the emperor, “She’s harmless. She knows that what we have is real. She knows that you love me. She’s only jealous.”

The emperor’s eyes soften as he stares at you. “And you? Do you love me?”

You glance at your sister, an apology in your eyes, before wrapping your arms around Emperor Min, “I love you. Only you.”

He kisses you deeply and waves away the guards. Once he breaks the kiss, you feel yourself sag against him in relief as Ara is released and your father ushers her away. You can feel Lord Kim staring at you and when you finally meet his gaze, you're taken aback by the devastation in his eyes.

His eyes flicker between you and the emperor before he turns around and follows after your father. You stare after him but the emperor blocks your view. You look up and meet his eyes.

“Your eyes are only meant for me. No one else.”

You nod your head, but don’t say a word. Emperor Min continues to stare at you for a moment longer, before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Eunuch Ki.”

Eunuch Ki suddenly appears at the Emperor’s side ready and willing to do whatever is asked of him and gives a low bow, “Your majesty.”

“Take my bride to rest.”

“At once, your grace.” Eunuch Ki gestures for you to follow him and you do so without another word. Once the heavy golden doors close behind you, you finally let the tears fall from your eyes. You cry silently on the long carriage ride back to the other side of the palace. Eunuch Ki looks uncomfortable and like he wishes to offer words of comfort, but has no idea what to say.

You go to rub your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, but Eunuch Ki stops you and hands you a soft cloth, “Forgive me your highness, but your dress must be preserved for the royal archives, you must not dirty it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You give a sad hiccup laugh and look out the carriage window. You realize quickly that you are not headed to the Mugunghwa Courtyard, but to the Emperor’s private courtyard.

“I thought the Emperor wanted me to rest.”

Eunuch Ki gives you a look, but doesn’t respond. When the carriage rolls to a stop, Unso is there to help you down from the carriage. If she sees the distress on your face, she doesn’t comment on it. She gives you a low bow and leads you into the Emperor’s lair.

His private courtyard and rooms are enormous. Everything is draped in silks of black and gold. When you finally reach the Emperor’s private chambers, you’re astounded. His bedroom has the largest canopy bed you have ever seen, covered in a mountain of pillows. There is a large wooden desk in one corner of the room surrounded with several shelves filled with scrolls. There’s two separate golden resting sofas, each larger than you have ever seen and even a large dressing table with a mirror, obviously for a woman to use. There are also large double doors leading out to a small, private hot spring.

You watch Unso bustle around the room, preparing things and beckoning you over to the dressing table. “Your highness, let me help you remove your makeup.”

You sit quietly at the table and let Unso gently wash your face. You watch her put a special cream under your eyes to bring down the puffiness from your tears. She takes her time undoing your hair and leaving it unbound. You meet her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, “How many women has he bedded here?”

She looks puzzled at your question, “His majesty has never brought any woman here.”

“Concubine Nam?”

“Never.” Unso’s voice is resolute, “His majesty has never brought any woman, harem or no, here. These are his private chambers.”

“I see.” You don’t know if she’s lying to you, but if she is, you appreciate it. You feel slightly better knowing you are the only woman to ever sleep in his chambers.

Unso opens a chest and pulls out a black silk robe embroidered with red mugunghwa flowers and lays it over the top of the dressing screen in the corner of the room, “Your highness, you should remove your clothes and put this on. I’ll make you some tea and then you can lay down and rest.”

You slowly make your way behind the dressing screen and painstakingly remove your wedding dress. You leave it in a heap on the floor along with your undergarments. You know there is no point in wearing them and while you are nervous and a little scared, you know the consummation is inevitable.

You put the silk robe on, and gently tie the sash around your waist. When you step around the dressing screen, Unso has already prepared the bed by removing many of the pillows and replacing the black silk sheets with a soft, white one. The white sheet shines ominously in the low light of the lanterns.

“Your highness, have some tea to soothe your nerves.” Unso has brewed some fresh tea, but the scent is different than any you have had before. You sit stiffly on the edge of the newly made bed and take a small sip of tea. The taste is slightly bitter, but soon you feel yourself relaxing.

“What type of tea is this?” You ask as Unso refills your cup and urges you to drink more.

She pats your head and gives you a warm smile, “Don’t worry. It was requested by his highness to help improve your health.”

You nod and don’t question her. You assume it’s similar to what the harem drinks to prevent pregnancy. The emperor is still young and with the drama that Concubine Nam has caused, you doubt children were on his mind. Before you know it, you’ve finished the entire pot.

Unso helps tuck you in bed, and turns down all the lanterns. The only light in the room is that from the moonlight seeping in through the heavy curtains. You can barely keep your eyes open and the last thing you hear before you drift asleep is Unso’s quiet words, “Rest well, your majesty. You will need it.”

-0-0-0-

You’re awoken by a soft noise. You sit up and look around but don’t notice anything out of place. You’re still alone in the emperor’s bed. You see a faint glow under a previously unnoticed door in the far corner near his large desk.

You get out of bed and make your way to the door. It opens soundlessly and a large staircase is revealed. You slowly make your way up the staircase, being careful not to make a sound. At the top of the staircase is a large room. It looks like an artist’s studio. Numerous canvases line the walls, charcoals and paints scattered over several large wooden tables stationed through the room.

You see half finished portraits of Princess Min and a few of the previous emperors. You step into the room, careful not to disturb the artwork. There are some more paintings of several gardens and fountains that inhabit the palace grounds. In the corner of the room there is a beautiful hand carved desk, slightly smaller than the large tables, covered with more artwork. When you get closer you realize the paintings and sketches are all of you. You in the dress you wore the first night you arrived, you smiling in Princess Min’s private pavilion, you taking a walk in one of the private gardens, you asleep in your private rooms. Hundreds of paintings and drawings of you.

You see another canvas underneath, it's slightly worn with frayed edges as if it’s been touched frequently. When you pull it out you see it's a painting of you, but this one you recognize. Two summers ago your father had you and your sister sit for a family portrait. The artist was impeccable and it was one of the most accurate paintings you had ever seen of yourself, it was almost like looking in the mirror. You see that the painting is torn, your sister and father removed from the portrait.

“You’ve found my sanctuary.”

You startle at the emperor’s voice and drop the canvas as if you’ve been burned. He’s standing at the entrance of the room, he’s no longer dressed in the golden robe, but now his signature black. It’s tied loosely, so the smooth pale skin of his chest is visible. His blond hair is loose and his crown is gone.

“You’re quite the artist.” You gesture around the room, “but I notice there is no artwork of your concubines, of your beloved Concubine Nam.”

The emperor glances around, taking in his artwork as he steps further into the room, “Are you jealous of In-Suk?”

You frown at the use of her first name, but do not deny his accusation, “I do not like the thought of my husband bedding other women.”

“There are no other women.” Emperor Min slowly makes his way over to you, “You’re the only one that matters.”

You glance back at the desk littered with portraits of you, your eyes stopping on the torn family portrait, “How long have I been the only one that matters?”

He smiles, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” You keep your voice calm and composed, “It matters to me.”

Emperor Min stands close to you, his fingers trailing over the artwork on the desk, “I had no interest in marriage. Lords and other noblemen constantly throwing their daughters at me. Your father is no different. Going on and on about Ara and how wonderful and virtuous she is.” He smiles wryly, “I finally got him to shut up by feigning interest.”

The emperor gently picks up the torn family portrait, “Imagine my surprise when he brings me this. A beautiful family portrait. I ask him about you and he immediately tells me about what a beautiful and doting older sister you are to Ara. How ever since your mother died, you have helped raise her. How you love her more than anything.”

He sets the portrait down and grabs your hands, gently turning you to face him, “I knew then that you would sacrifice everything for your beloved sister. I also knew that I needed to get you into the palace. Once you were here, you could not deny me.”

“But I was supposed to marry Lord-”

“Never say his name again.” Emperor’s Min’s voice is hard, leaving no room for discussion, “I am your husband. He is nothing.”

“Of course,” Your voice is quiet, you hesitate for a moment before you continue your questioning, “But… but Princess Min set up the consort selection. She told me she had to practically beg you to agree.”

“My beloved wife.” Emperor Min cups your face affectionately, his previous sour mood at the mention of Lord Kim completely gone, “You’re too trusting. She poisoned her companion, do you really think she would not lie to help her brother?”

“But Ara-”

“Ara will forgive you.” He presses a soft kiss against your lips, “Or she won’t. It does not matter.”

“But-”

“Is it really so bad being Empress?” Emperor Min presses another kiss to your lips, his fingers tangle in your unbound hair, “Being Mother to the country?”

“No-no, I am grateful to your majesty.” You shiver at his touch, grasping his shoulders as he presses himself against you.

“Yoongi.” He places more kisses down your lips and chin, “Call me Yoongi.”

“Yoongi!” You gasp when he softly bites your neck.

You feel him reach behind you and push everything off the large desk, the sound of canvases and painting supplies hitting the floor echoes throughout the room. Yoongi picks you up and sits you on the large desk, his lips never leaving your skin.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His mouth is muffled by the skin of your neck, his lips and tongue trail lower. You feel hot all over and cannot help but shiver when his hand yanks the collar of your robe down your shoulder. “My beautiful queen.”

Your fingers clutch at the silk fabric of his robe, holding him closer to you. You don’t stop him when he undoes your robe, his hot fingers trailing down the skin of your abdomen. “Beloved, will you show me?”

You wordlessly lean back, letting the open robe slip down your arms, baring your nude body to his view. His eyes are burning as he drinks you in. “Absolutely Exquisite.”

Yoongi leans over you, pressing himself between your thighs, and kisses you deeply. His tongue licks into your mouth with desperation. His hands are shaking as he grips your hips, and you quickly free yourself from the sleeves of your robe.

He breaks the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck and chest, his hot tongue swirls around your exposed breast before suckling the nipple. You can’t stop your moan, your whole body jerks at the feeling. “Y-Yoongi!”

“Say it again.” Yoongi’s voice is filled with desperation as he kisses down your ribs, “Say my name again.”

“Yoongi.” You whisper and your stomach clenches when he kisses lower, his wet tongue trailing over your abdomen. You’re so aroused, you can feel your wetness coating your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.

“I have never seen a more beautiful woman.” Yoongi presses a soft kiss below your belly button, “The country has never had a more beautiful empress.”

“Your highness flatters me.”

“No.” Yoongi’s firm voice startles you and when you meet his eyes, they are burning with madness, “This emperor loves you. Only you.”

You shiver at the look in his eyes and nod your head in return, “Yes. Of course.”

Yoongi presses another kiss to your abdomen, his large hands gripping your thighs as he stares at you, “Will you deny your king?”

“Never.”

The smile he gives you is equal parts beautiful and dangerous, his dark, dark eyes overflowing with adoration for you, “Good girl.”

Your breath catches when he spreads your thighs apart and leans forward, his mouth inches away from your wet, pulsing cunt. “I wonder if you taste as succulent as you smell.”

You feel your pussy throb at his words and you lean your head back against the desk, your eyes closing in anticipation. You find his crude words more arousing than you ever thought possible. Your heart is beating so fast and you can feel sweat beading on your forehead. While you have never been intimate with a man, you were no stranger to self pleasure. You just never imagined your first experience with a man would be the emperor of the entire nation between your thighs, waiting to pleasure you. The heady rush of excitement is making you dizzy.

You tense when Yoongi presses the flat of his tongue against your juicy pussy. His tongue is hot as it licks a slow stripe up to your clit and you both release a throaty groan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you get light headed from lack of oxygen. You're shivering all over and you feel a tight pressure in your stomach. Your entire body is tuned to Yoongi’s mouth, every lick and suck of his tongue has you soaring.

“Better.” He whispers between licks of your swollen clit, his fingers shaking as he holds your thighs apart, “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever had before.”

You press your hand into your mouth to bite down on, trying to muffle your moans. Your other hand scrambles for something to hold onto before tangling in his long, soft hair.

You press your heel into his back, but if Yoongi is bothered, he does not show it. He’s completely focused on devouring you. You bite your hand hard to cover your squeal when his hot fingers gently probe your cunt. He reaches up to pull your hand out of your mouth, his fingers gently stroking your wrist around the jade bracelet, “Do not dare hide your pleasure from me.”

He places your hand on his head, near your other hand already grasping his hair, and encourages you to use him as you please. A long, thick finger slips inside you and you cannot stop yourself from clamping down, your hips automatically rolling up into his face.

“That’s it, my beautiful girl,” Yoongi continues to flick your clit with his tongue, “Ride my face.”

Your fingers grasp his head, holding his mouth against your aching cunt. You’re throbbing and dripping and you know you are going to come soon. You can feel the release building deep inside you. Yoongi presses another finger into your dripping hole and you can feel yourself trembling. He’s completely focused on you and your pleasure, his mouth working nonstop to help you reach your peak.

You sit up slightly and meet his dark gaze, his eyes are brimming with satisfaction. You grip his hair hard and press his face against your dripping cunt. You’re so close you’re practically vibrating with pleasure.

He twists his fingers and you're coming. You release a soundless gasp and can’t stop yourself from gushing all over his fingers. Yoongi moans at the taste of you, his mouth eagerly trying to swallow every drop of your release. You collapse on the desk, your orgasm still thrumming through your body.

You barely catch your breath when he’s hovering over you, your release glistening on his lips and chin. He kisses you deeply, making sure you can taste yourself on his tongue. You can feel his body trembling as he undoes his robe and you cannot figure out if he’s nervous or excited, or a combination of both.

He breaks the kiss to look at you and your stomach flutters at his gaze, so full of yearning and affection, you’re no longer sure why you ever thought about denying him. You hadn't even realized something was missing from your life, he was missing from your life, until this moment. You weren't just doing this out of a sense of duty. Because you were his wife. Because he was your husband. You wanted this. Desperately. More than you’d wanted anything up until this moment.

Full of your realization, you push his robe off his shoulders and spread your legs wider, allowing him to press himself completely against you. He’s hot and hard, pulsing between your thighs. You shiver at the feel of him, your sticky cunt still dripping from your orgasm. You look at him, his cheeks flushed pink, his forehead and chest slightly sweaty, his hair a tangled mess. His scar looks less intimidating in the low light of the lanterns.

“You love me?” You don’t realize you have said the words out loud until he stares at you, his dark, dark eyes burning.

“More than anything.”

It’s intoxicating knowing you have this beautiful man confessing his love to you. He is the most powerful man in the entire world and he loves you more than anything. You can’t help the ugly feelings of jealousy bubbling in your stomach, knowing other women have seen him undone like this. Knowing that Concubine Nam has had him like this is unacceptable.

“I want them gone.” You shift forward slightly, the head of his thick cock catching on your entrance. You feel so hot between your legs, your cunt aching to be spread open by him.

“Who?” He sounds confused, distracted. His whole body is trembling, holding himself back from thrusting up into you.

“Your whores.” You roll your hips and feel him sink a few inches inside you, you hold your breath and try not to tense up at the intrusion. “I will not have a husband that has a harem. I want them all gone, especially that bitch Nam. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you like this.”

“Yes,” You feel more than hear him gasp, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, “Anything you want.

“You’re mine.”

Your whispered declaration causes something inside of him to snap. You’re unprepared when he pushes completely inside of you. The burning stretch of his thick, heavy cock leaves your breathless. He groans into your chest, barely giving you a moment to adjust before he’s thrusting in and out. Every roll of his hips has you clenching around him. His lips press soft kisses into your skin between pants of yesyesyes and all yours. You’re soaked and shaking, your fingers clutch his shoulders, trying to anchor him against you. He’s so thick and so large, you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“My Empress, My Goddess,” Yoongi whispers reverently into your skin, “I will give you everything.”

“Yes,” You press yourself closer to him, ignoring the feel of his ringed fingers bruising your hips, “All I want is you.”

Every thrust of his hips brings you closer to the edge. You’re quivering around him, so close you can almost taste it. You shudder when he releases your hip, his fingers gently rubbing your swollen clit, causing you to pulse around him. “That’s it, my beloved girl. Come for me.”

Yoongi softly pinches your clit and you explode. His tongue licks up your throat, his mouth swallowing your quiet cries of pleasure. You clench down and feel him gasp against you, his body shuddering uncontrollably. The pulse of his cock inside you floods you with warmth.

You close your eyes and hold him against you, trying to catch your breath. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You slowly run your fingers through his hair and smile when you realize he’s still buried inside you.

He sits up and stares at you. You can see your reflection in his dark eyes. Your hair is disheveled and your lips are swollen. You can see your eyes are hazy with pleasure and several love bites adorn your neck and shoulders.

“My beloved bride.” Yoongi smiles at you affectionately, his fingers gently brush your hair back from your sweaty forehead, “I will never let you go.”

-0-0-0-

When you awaken you’re alone in the emperor’s bed, his side is cool, as if he’s been gone for hours. You’re sore all over, your husband spent most of the night inside of you, making you come over and over again until the early morning light.

You wrap the wrinkled white sheet around you and stand on shaky legs. You slowly make your way to the door and call for Unso. She appears immediately, almost as if she was waiting for you.

She helps you sit at the dressing table and goes about opening the curtains. Based on the sunlight entering the room, you can tell it is already early afternoon. Several maids clear the used bedding from the bed, and replace the sheets with clean silk ones.

“Where is the emperor?”

“His majesty wanted his bride to get enough rest, he would not let anyone disturb your highness.” Unso ignores your question and pulls a black dress patterned with golden dragons from the wardrobe. She hangs it over the silk dressing screen along with several undergarments.

You watch her through the mirror as she orders servants to prepare bath water for you. You can tell that something is amiss by the way Unso will not meet your eyes and the maids scurry about as if they are terrified of you.

“Your highness,” A younger maid bows low and holds out a fresh cup of tea, “your tea?”

You take the cup from the trembling maid, it’s the same bitter tea from the night before. You take a small sip, “Unso, where is my husband?”

“Your majesty, you must drink your tea, it is good for your health.” Unso comes out from behind the dressing screen, “Come take your bath, it will soothe your sore muscles.”

“No,” You set the mostly full cup of tea on the dressing table and stand up, “Bring me my robe.”

“Your majesty, you cannot go out in only your robe!” Unso’s voice is shocked. “It is improper!”

“Fine,” You make your way behind the dressing screen and put on your undergarments, “You will help me dress and then you will take me to my husband.”

Unso and several maids help you put on the stunning black dress. You’re ushered to the dressing table where you are adorned in diamond jewelry. Unso styles your hair with a jeweled dragon hairpin. Lotions and creams are rubbed into your face, neck and arms.

Once you are deemed presentable, you follow Unso and several servant girls to the throne room. When you reach the large doors, Eunuch Ki looks alarmed to see you and quickly bows low, “Y-your highness! What are you doing here?”

“Eunuch Ki,” You nod your head in greeting, “I came to see my husband.”

“I see,” Eunuch Ki shares an undecipherable look with Unso, “His majesty is conducting important business, he has asked me to inform you that he will join you in his rooms later for the evening meal.”

“Open the doors.”

“Please your majesty, you need to rest.” Eunuch Ki tries to placate you, “Let me take you back to the emperor’s courtyard or even to see Princess Min.”

“Open the doors. Now.”

Eunuch Ki looks helplessly at Unso before nodding his head. The guards slowly push the heavy doors open.

The smell is the first thing that hits you. The thick coppery scent of blood. You slowly step into the room and gasp in horror. The floors and walls are covered in blood. It looks like an entire massacre took place here. You walk further into the room and ignore the way the blood soaks into your silk slippers, seeping between your toes.

Eunuch Ki follows quietly behind you. There are several servants scrubbing the floors and walls, trying to remove the pools of blood around the room. You ignore them all, your eyes are completely focused on the emperor. He’s staring at a small golden box in his hand. A bloody sword rests near his feet.

“Yoongi.” You whisper the words quietly, but his head snaps up immediately, his eyes focusing on you.

“Beloved.” His eyes light up when he sees you, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. He rushes eagerly towards you. You realize he’s wearing a black robe, patterned with golden dragons, the same design as your dress. The only difference is his robe is stained with fresh blood. His hair is pulled up into a topknot, his black headband in place. Small drops of blood stain his cheeks and neck. He presses the golden box into Eunuch Ki’s hands before cupping your face, his fingers still wet with blood.

“My beautiful bride,” His voice is light, happy, “everything is perfect now that you are here.”

“Perfect?” You whisper and let him take your hands, leading you towards his throne. The golden dragon throne looks intimidating in the blood soaked room. The closer you get to the throne, the stronger the scent of blood becomes. You feel light headed, your stomach churning at the smells permeating the air.

“I.. I need to sit down.”

Yoongi looks at you concerned and immediately has you sit on his throne, “Are you alright, my love? Do you need some tea?”

“No,” You sit quietly. You feel sick, you feel sweaty, you can barely catch your breath, “I just need a moment.”

You close your eyes trying to center yourself. You know something terrible happened here, there is so much blood it looks like a battlefield. You're grateful that the bodies have already been removed, you don't know how you would have handled a room full of corpses. You take a few deep breaths and open your eyes, meeting Yoongi's bright gaze.

“I have a gift for you.” Yoongi takes the golden box from Eunuch Ki, “I wanted to surprise you with it this evening, but you are here now. My beautiful girl.”

You stare at the golden box stained with blood. You take it from Yoongi with trembling hands. Yoongi is vibrating with excitement next to you. You can feel the pressure behind your eyes signaling that you are about to cry. You blink repeatedly, holding back your tears.

You slowly open the box and stare at the contents. Yoongi holds your hands around the golden box, making sure you can’t drop it. You swallow the scream bubbling in your throat and meet his eyes. Dark, crazed, unhinged eyes overflowing with love for you. Love and madness.

You look back at your gift. Dead, lifeless eyes stare back at you. Concubine Nam’s eyes. Yoongi kneels obediently at your feet, soaking his robe in more blood. Blood from Concubine Nam. Blood from the rest of the harem.

You can’t stop the tears from dripping down your cheeks.

“They are all gone. Just like you asked.” Yoongi stares at you with reverence, his eyes sparkling, “I told you I would do anything for you.”

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga x reader #yandere!yoongi x reader #emperor!yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #yandere!yoongi #emperor!yoongi #yandere!bts #bts smut #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts suga #bts #reader insert

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years

Text

Needy

pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader (guest star Yoongi)

genre: smut, established relationship au

word count: 4.3k | reading time: 20 min

summary: Dating Kim Namjoon comes with its advantages and disadvantages. The later mainly being working so much all you get to see of him is in his studio. But you're a needy bitch. And if you have to get what you want while he works, you will do just that.

warnings: hard dom namjoon, bratty sub reader, cockwarming, daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, praise, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, oral m.receiving, orgasm denial, studio sex, slight exhibitionism, aka the one where namjoon discovers he likes public sex and exhibitionism.

A/N: Amy=Army=reader because I prefer using a name instead of y/n

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Time slipping closer to the comeback dates meant missing-your-boyfriend hours grew more frequent. You never complained, just like he didn't either, but you were clingy by nature and finding any way to be even in the same room as Namjoon had become your top priority. At first, sleeping in his arms at night was enough. In about a week it became apparent that waking hours were paramount, so you started joining him for lunch. No matter how short and rushed it had to be. But the more he worked on the group's comeback, the less attention he could pay, always distracted and keeping your interactions to small talk. Eating with him wasn't sating your hunger anymore.

"I'm sorry, baby," he would say when he would realize you had been talking this whole time.

You honestly didn't mind. Simply wanted to be by his side. "It's okay, sweetie. Everything alright?"

He sighed and caressed your hand laying on the table. "I just miss you. I have to stay to work extra hours again and I won't see you again and I miss you. That's all."

You replicated his small, soft smile. "I can stay with you. I'll bring my laptop and we can both work together. That way we won't be alone."

Namjoon smirked. "You know I can't concentrate with you in the room," he declared with a low tone in his voice and slightly squeezed your hand.

Suddenly, you were fighting a smile on your lips while your eyes raced to the floor as if you were too shy to face your own boyfriend. Then you pouted. "No, we'll just work. I will be working too, I'll be so quiet, you won't even know I'm there."

And so you did. You took the small couch while he had his back to you, working on his computer. The sound of both of your keyboards was filling the room, along with the slight whispers of the music playing through Namjoon's headphones. It was after-hours and they went by mostly uninterrupted, except for the occasional visit by a manager or a member –usually the rappers– to deliver some type of message. The boys would smile softly at the sight of you, and you replied with a raise of your shoulders to state the obvious.

"Can I sit on your lap?" You asked Namjoon once after you had given up on your work and were battling falling asleep on that comfortable couch while you waited for him to call it a day, or more accurately, a night.

He pulled his headphones to the side and turned to look at you. "My lap?"

You nodded. "I'll just sit there and you can work."

"Don't you want to work?"

"No, I want to be in your arms."

He bit his bottom lip. He eyed you up and down and then looked at his monitor. He knew it wasn't a good idea, but he figured he would just sound like a straight douche if he declined cuddle offers from his girlfriend, after she had been patiently putting up with him distancing for the past few weeks. So he turned back to you and patted his lap.

"Okay, hop on, kitty. But if you don't sit quietly, you'll be in trouble."

You had to bite back that shy smile again. Namjoon was asking you to sit quietly yet just by the way he asked, he made you crave that trouble he promised. But no, you were a good girl. You didn't want to disturb his work, it would only stress him out more. You straddled his lap and huddled on his chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible so as not to restrict his movements in the least. You felt his big hand stroking your hair as you planted your head on his left shoulder, your nose close to his neck, tickling him with your warm breath. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

So now you almost didn't even bother pretending to work on that laptop of yours. Since Namjoon had been convinced that you could sit on his lap without causing trouble, and you had discovered how easy it was to relax when you were wrapped around him like that, you basically jumped in his lap right after you two settled in his studio. Namjoon played with your hair or gently squeezed the softer parts of your body every time he paused to think. He found it helped him work even better. His own little stress relief toy.

"Oh- uh… Sorry- um…" Yoongi squealed when he walked into the studio and saw the two of you tangled like so.

Namjoon turned to face the older member and simply shook his head. "Oh, she's just sleeping," he whispered.

Yoongi now opened the door more widely and stood up straighter to take a better look at you. "Oh…" he exhaled with a smile. "Like that?"

"Yeah… she can't stay away from me."

"Cute…"

At that, you decided to lift your head and look at Yoongi's general direction. "I'm awake!" you stated loudly then immediately dropped your head back down.

The other man chuckled slightly before he informed Namjoon on something about their manager, this and that, and left. Anyone walking into the studio was met with what appeared like an adorable scene that they quickly became accustomed to, and even your boyfriend seemed to think completely innocently of it now. Which meant you were the only one quietly suffering because of his cologne and the warmth of his crotch under yours.

You tried to sit there quietly. You tried to fall asleep. But it had been days since you and Namjoon had done anything other than work, and that promised trouble was becoming more and more appealing. You circled your fingertips at the base of his neck, contemplating whether you should grid yourself on him to get him to fuck you on that desk as a punishment, or be a good girl so that you don't lose your lap privileges.

But you wanted more than your lap privileges. You truly were so clingy, it wasn't enough that you were sitting on him like that; you wanted to feel more of him. You bit your lip and controlled yourself, catching your breath on purpose so that he wouldn't notice it had gotten heavier and warmer on his neck. You could practically hear his deep voice vibrating something like "you little minx" in case you exposed yourself, which in turn made your struggles even harder.

You squirming on his lap was probably registered as you squirming in your sleep by your boyfriend. Indeed, you kept your eyes tightly closed to play the role, too. You swallowed, again and again, excess saliva flooding your mouth from all the dirty thoughts passing your mind, like a dog dreaming of a delicious meal. But you stayed put. You sat quietly, just like he had asked. Because you were a good girl and you knew you would be awarded for that eventually.

"Baby…" you whispered with a pout in your lips. Today you had worn a skirt and as you sat on Namjoon's lap, the only thing covering your heat was your lace panties. Today you would get that award you craved the whole week. "Namjoon, baby…" you whined again to get your boyfriend's attention.

He looked at you with wide eyes, pausing whatever he was doing and sliding his headphones off. "What's that, kitten?"

Your eyes dropped down as your fingers played with the hem of his shirt. "I–" you gulped, "I want you inside me."

You heard nothing, no reaction. So you looked up again and Namjoon was just staring at you. "You know we can't do that here, kitten…"

You bounced slightly on his lap in protest. Luckily for you, you found out your boyfriend had already started to get hard under you. So you continued. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself on him, making him suck in a breath.

"Ohh... I'm not asking for anything too much. I just want you inside me."

"Inside you?"

You nodded. "Yes, yes. I just want to feel you. Can you just… just put it inside me?"

Namjoon laughed. "Baby, if I put it inside you there is no way it won't lead to something more…"

But you shook your head frantically. For good measure, you ground yourself on him, too. "No, no, I promise! I won't even move. I'll just go right to sleep like I do every day. You know, you've seen how quietly I can sit like that. You can trust me, right?"

Namjoon bit his bottom lip aggressively as he watched you act all innocent and cute while talking about putting his dick in you. He took one too many seconds to answer, so you took the initiative to move your hands to his pants and unbutton them. His hands grabbed your hips. Not to stop you. Just to hold you forcefully as he processed what was happening.

"So you– you want to do… cockwarming?"

In response, you took one of his hands and guided it under your skirt, to your already wet core. His fingers felt your arousal through the lace. Suddenly, all signs of demur disappeared from his face.

"Hm, does your little hole feel empty without me, kitten? You want me to fill you up?"

You bit your lip as you nodded, your hands moving again to completely undo his pants and pull them down just a bit. You palmed him through his boxers and his fingers massaged your clit over your panties. You pulled his dick out and saw how it sprang up, almost to full hardness already. Quickly, you spat on your hand a generous amount and used that to pump him up and down a few times. Namjoon groaned and pushed your panties away, two fingers teasing at your entrance.

"Do you need prepping? Or can you take my cock as it is?" he asked you as he slipped his two fingers easily in.

"Namjoon," you moaned his name quietly. "Don't get me too horny, just put your dick inside me." He raised his eyebrows at your commanding attitude. "Unless you don't want me to be good," you added with a raised eyebrow of your own.

Chuckling, he pulled his fingers out and grabbed your hips again. He guided you over his dick. "Alright, kitten. Sit on that cock and don't. Move."

You sank, taking him in inch by inch, the thickness stretching you out so much it burned. You allowed yourself to moan out as quietly as you could, still struggling to fit all of him inside you. Namjoon kept a hand on your hips to guide you down, while the other caressed the side of your head.

"That's right," he praised you. "Take all of me, baby. I know you can."

With his encouraging words, you took a deep breath and moved down until your pussy had swallowed him whole, his head now nudging at your cervix.

"There, there… that's great," Namjoon cooed. He brushed his palm over your cheek and made you look at him. "How does this feel?"

"Oh, it feels good…" you said, dragging out the last word while letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your boyfriend gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

"So, did you get what you wanted, kitten?"

"Mm, yes, daddy, thank you," you moaned.

His thumb ran over your lips and he pinched your chin. You opened your eyes to look at him. "Now… will you sit there quietly and let me do my job?"

You nodded lazily. "Yes. Yes, daddy, I will."

Namjoon smiled and gave you a quick peck. He looked down, pushing your skirt out and adjusting it so that it covered both of you up. He put his headphones back on and you, just like you promised, laid your head on his shoulder again and sat there quietly. Your position ultimately not changing at all and it still seemed very sinless, with the only exception that you were now so deliciously full and finally sated.

You tried to calm your breathing down. You clenched and unclenched around him involuntarily and he released a warning groan in response. It was hard to stay still at first, but once you got used to his length stretching your walls, it was surprisingly relaxing. He was big and warm and the most comfortable thing you had experienced in your life. You had never felt closer to your boyfriend than at that moment. You loved it in a very possessive way.

From now on this would be the only seat you'd ever take.

Namjoon loved it too. He didn't expect you to actually sit still, secretly wanted you to act out so that he could teach you a lesson afterwards. But now you looked as peaceful as a baby breastfeeding. It was funny how something so dirty made you look so chaste, and how that in return made you look, well... hot. He sighed. He really didn't think he would be the one having trouble controlling himself. Your pussy was moving slightly around him every time you squirmed, and he felt every single thing. Yet you had managed to drift into a light sleep, your cheek pressed on his collarbone, your lips apart, your breaths long and warm on his neck.

So pretty… So cute. Namjoon would make sure to fuck you so well when you two got home.

"Hey, Namjoon!"

Namjoon jumped right as the studio door opened wide. He hands quickly grabbed your hips, ready to push you away and pretend nothing was happening.

"Oh, is she sleeping?" Yoongi whispered and walked closer to them.

Namjoon froze. He looked down, your skirt was still covering you up. Then he looked at the other man. He seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on in there.

And that, for some reason, made Namjoon's dick throb.

"Um, ye-yeah."

"Heh, she's so cute when she sleeps on you like that."

Namjoon bit the inside of his cheek hard. His hips moved forward on their own accord, pushing further inside you so slightly that the moment went by unnoticed. But not by you. A tiny whine echoed from your throat.

"Hm, yes. What's up?" he answered, his voice husky.

Yoongi started talking, but if Namjoon were to be honest with himself, he didn't hear a thing he said. All he could register was his dick getting even harder while your pussy got tighter around him. He tried to stay still as he stared forcefully into his friend's eyes. What if he realised?

God, the thought alone made him suck in a deep breath.

"Okay?" Yoongi's voice was barely made out inside the younger's foggy head. But he managed to nod. "Can you do that for me?"

"Hyung..." Namjoon sighed. Just as Yoongi frowned at his friend's odd voice, you moved around, clinging closer to Namjoon, cutting off his oxygen supply completely. "Yes! Yes, I will!" he literally choked out.

The other rapper gave him an up and down and Namjoon would never dare admit how his eyes on the two of you made his stomach shrink. But he would admit to how he felt ready to combust and if you weren't left alone within the next thirty seconds, he would no longer care about details such as privacy.

"Cool," Yoongi mumbled, moving back towards the door yet still facing you. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

The moment the door clicked closed, Namjoon gasped hard, taking in all the air he was missing. His hands -still on your hips- held you tighter, tight enough to leave bruises, as he panted and moved his hips slowly into you.

"Stop pretending you're sleeping," he demanded. A couple of seconds of silence passed, and then he felt your lips gently land on his neck in a small kiss, trying to play innocent. He snorted. "You–"

"Everything okay, daddy?" you asked in the purest voice you could master.

"No!" he exclaimed, dropping his head back on his chair. He thrust up as much as he could, but since he was already buried to the brim, there wasn't much space to move. "No, I'm not okay!" he growled. You immediately bit your lip, pulling your head away so that you could finally face him. He leaned slightly forward but the moment his eyes fell on you, his head hit his chair again. "Move!"

"But, daddy, you–"

"Fuck, Amy, if you don't– move!"

His hands pushed you slightly off him, and he immediately thrust into you. Hard. You had no choice but to cry out. Another thrust and you felt like you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, falling on his chest and clinging to him desperately.

"Nam-" you tried to talk, but the man had found his position and was drilling into you at a never before seen speed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and all you could do was have your jaw hung open and a moan escape freely with every hit on your spot. He was animalistic, growling and groaning loudly with no regards to the public building you were in, and most importantly, without even noticing your attempts to slow him down. You pushed your palms on his shoulders, trying to lift yourself, but in response, he just bit down on your neck and made you moan harder.

This... This is exactly what you wanted. Wasn't it?

"Namjoon, the door is unlocked," you managed to whisper while he was licking your neck up and down aggressively. He just hummed in response. At least he heard your voice. "What if somebody comes in?"

Your boyfriend moaned. He slowed down, his right hand leaving your hip to move higher up, ruffling your shirt, squeezing your breast and wrapping around your throat. You gasped right as he tightened his grip.

"Let them see," Namjoon mumbled. His grip around your throat tightened even more and his hips picked up the pace again. But now, you had no way of making any sound other than choking. Namjoon moaned louder. "Oh, let them watch."

He finally let you breathe and right away he crushed his lips to yours, pulling you deep down on his dick and grinding inside you. You had never seen this side of him before and you couldn't help but drip arousal around his base. Just seeing how into it he seemed to be made you get closer to your climax.

"Bounce on my cock, you slut. Isn't this what you wanted from the beginning?" your boyfriend growled in your ear and you whined, immediately obeying. Jumping up and down.

"Daddy..." you moaned for his attention, getting closer and closer.

A hard slap on your right butt cheek. "Faster. Do it how you know you wanted it." Another slap.

Leaning forward you found a new momentum to slide up and down his dick faster, and his breathing instantly changed. You looked up through your lashes at him, gawking at his expression, face hot with coy and pride.

"Like that, daddy?"

He groaned, staring right into your eyes. "So needy," he mumbled. "Such a desperate slut, constantly wanting praise. Is that what you want, baby? For me to praise you?"

You almost missed your rhythm due to the effect his words had on you. "Da... Daddy..." was all you could say.

He held you from the ass, helping you move since you were so close to cumming it was getting hard. "Hm? You want me to praise that warm, wet pussy of yours that takes my dick so well?" You had to moan. "So well-" he repeated, "-that I can't resist it?"

"Daddy, I'm gonna-"

"You fuck me so well, baby. Hm, is that what you want me to say?" Namjoon continued teasing. "You're so good..."

"I'm gonna cum!"

Suddenly, you were empty. Namjoon had pulled out of you and pushed you away.

"Oh no, baby. You don't get to cum."

Your mouth dropped open, the sweat that glistened all over your face probably evaporating at how hot it suddenly got. "Wh- what?"

The man in front of you gave you the most shit-eating grin you had seen in a while. He got up from the chair and stood in front of you. "What? You really thought you would be rewarded with an orgasm after everything you pulled?"

You pouted. "But..."

Namjoon held your chin gently and smiled down at you smugly. "You've been too naughty, sweetness. Now, if you get on your knees for me, I might make you cum when we get home."

You bit your lips so hard it hurt. "Daddy..." you whined in the most seductive voice you had in you, giving him your big, puppy eyes. But he just released your chin and raised his eyebrows.

"On. Your. Knees."

Gulping, you lowered yourself down. If Namjoon said knees then knees it would be. You looked up at him and he sighed heavily at the attractive sight.

"Now, open up for me, baby."

You opened your mouth and drew your tongue out as far as you could, which seemed to please him a lot. Grabbing his dick at the base, he ran his head over your tongue. Getting desperate again, you closed your lips around him and sucked the head. That earned you a hiss. His fingers were suddenly all in your hair, his head fallen back, as he picked up right where he had left. He pushed the first couple of inches of his dick in and out of you fast until you were used to it and you swallowed more of him in. You couldn't take all of him, but you didn't need to: the tightness of the back of your mouth was all Namjoon needed to feel from you.

"Oh, God…" Namjoon moaned and you knew the moment the atheist started to call out to God, was the moment he was getting close. You grabbed his hips to halt his thrusts and instead just suck. Suck him hard enough to slurp his own soul if he had one. Hard enough to swallow his warm cum right as it was released down your throat.

You opened up your mouth with a satisfied "ah" to show him it was empty. Namjoon smiled and fell back on his chair, exhausted. Knowing you needed to be as good as you could in order to be rewarded afterwards, you gently tucked him back in his trousers while still on your knees, looking at him proudly.

"Did I make you feel good?"

Namjoon chuckled, ruffling his hair. "I swear all you ever–"

A knock on the door followed but a member right away. "Hey, Namjoon-ah, when-"

You both turned with dread to look at the door, finding a mortified Yoongi standing to it. His wide eyes moved from the fucked out looking man on the chair, to the girl on her knees in front of him, and he very wisely decided to disappear behind the closed door again without a word.

"Ah, shit…" Namjoon mumbled, but you just laughed.

"You know, he's probably still waiting for that translation," you said, which made your boyfriend look at you puzzlingly.

"What translation?"

You bit your bottom lip to prevent you from laughing again. "Babe! Earlier… he said he e-mailed you some lyrics he wanted you to translate to English. You said you'd do it."

His face scrunched up to the saddest 'oh' you had seen. "I h– I didn't– I..."

You showed your teeth in an 'oopsie' way. "Oh, well... At least now he knows what took so long."

Namjoon moved off the chair and pulled you up with him. "I need to– I mean, I should probably talk to him. I don't know, say it wasn't what it looked like? Would that sound believable?"

You chuckled again, getting on your tippy-toes to try and fix his hair. "Looking like that? Not so much."

Namjoon looked at his reflection on the black screen of his computer to fix what he could. "You should go home, baby. I'll stay here to make this right."

"What? No, but you promised to make me cum when we get home," you whined like the spoiled brat you were.

But your boyfriend grabbed your jacket, waiting for you to wear it. "Yeah, but that was before you got me in trouble, you brat."

You pouted. "No, I'm not going."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your arms to push them through your jacket sleeves. "Get home now, Amy, before I change my mind and not let you cum at all."

You were ready to throw a tantrum, but as you were guided toward the door, you just turned and looked at him very seriously. "Namjoon, I swear to you, if you let me go now I'll find a better way of getting myself off tonight," you threatened.

But he laughed. "Oh, okay. Tell me, do you wanna go apologize to Yoongi perhaps?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps. At least he'd let me cum, wouldn't he?" you commented as you opened the door and were ready to leave. But Namjoon slammed it closed again. His arms caged you against it as he loomed over you.

"I have a better idea. You go home right now, undress, get in bed and wait for me without touching yourself at all, like a good girl, and I'll make you cum until you beg me to stop," Namjoon whispered darkly. You seemed to consider it. "There is no alternative, sweetness. You'll do as I tell you."

So you smiled. You gave him a little kiss on the cheek and agreed. Well, at least he thought you did. Because you were definitely going to disobey him by touching yourself back home until you had wet your bed waiting for him. Waiting for the punishment he'd come up with then...

1K notes · View notes

kosmosguk · 4 years

Text

Lineage (M) | 3

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader; Duke Namjoon x Princess Reader (one-sided)

Word Count: 8.7K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, future major character(s) death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, SMUT (cunnilingus; a whole 1.5k of pure smut: blindfolded, unprotected sex; exhibitionism; a bit of breeding), 18+, explicit language, self-loathing

A/N: Finally! The banquet scene (and a wonderful helping of Namjoon) is here! I hope you guys stick with Lineage and me to the very end of our journey <3 This chapter took a bit of time to write (can’t believe it’s 3k more words than the last part). Please, if you liked this part, comment or leave a detailed review (reading them makes me super happy and motivated)! Thank you for 2.6k+ followers :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

“Namjoon?’’

He stood up and turned around to look at you. Though he now had an aura, both elegant and cold, that was similar to the Duke’s, you could recognize that face anywhere. His expression was schooled into a composed and almost frigid look, a look that sent shivers down your spine. However, as soon as you felt goosebumps rising on your skin, his expression turned warm. It almost felt like you were imagining the coldness you had felt from him before. He smiled at you in the same manner that he had done when he had been posing as a messenger, his dimples flashing in his cheeks, though you did not notice that his eyes continued to remain cold.

“Your Highness,’’ he paused in his speaking,’’ Well, I suppose it’d be more proper to refer to you as a Duchess now. It’s been a while, has it not?’’

“It has,’’ your words stiffened as your mind spun in confusion,’’ been a while. I apologize for impolitely referring to you by your first name. If you are a close acquaintance with my husband, then you must be…’’

Your voice trailed off as you looked at him in an unsure manner. Namjoon chuckled at your attempt to mask your apparent uncertainty. The icy coldness in his eyes had melted somewhat.

“I’m of the House of Kim. We are on the same level when it comes to status, so you don’t have to act so…stiff around me, and I will take the opportunity to do the same as well. Last time I met you, you were much more carefree than the you of now, Duchess Min.’’

“I suppose you are correct with that, Duke Kim. It’s rather shameful to think of the way I greeted you back then, but that shame seems to dissipate when I recall the way you had taken on the identity of a servant, Duke Kim.’’ You dropped the stiff façade you had put on yourself, and your tone was light instead of accusatory. Your shoulders, which had been squared in an uncomfortably rigid posture, relaxed a little bit, and you couldn’t help the genuine smile that bloomed across your lips. “Now, what event brings you to a meeting with me? I believe you would rather meet with the Duke instead.’’

Namjoon paused, as if he was thinking of an answer. Whatever answer rang through his head must’ve been amusing, with the way his noble features had tilted up in a slightly playful expression.

“The Duke is not someone who throws a birthday banquet, or any banquet really. The typical complaint of the people on the territory is that there is little festivity outside of the annual week that celebrates the Kingdom’s establishment. A bit dreary, isn’t it, though I hope you take no offense at my comment.’’ Namjoon’s tone was almost teasing, and you curved your lips up lightly to show that you didn’t. “I owe the Duke a favor, and since the Duke rarely uses a favor, I believe doing something for you would equate the same as paying back the favor. And besides, helping you prepare for the birthday banquet would be the same as helping Yoongi.’’

You paused as you thought over your response. True, it would be very helpful to have a more experienced noble assist you in preparing for your first banquet—it was even more pressuring to hear that the Duke of Min rarely held a banquet, too, as the expectation for the first banquet was always much higher than the ones after and would also prove your abilities as the Duchess. But you worried about the rumors that would emerge if you were too close with Duke Kim. After all, the society you lived in was flawed in this sense of thinking.

“If you’re worried about any rumors emerging, don’t worry. You are not only the princess of this kingdom but a married woman, and I am but your husband’s friend. Any rumors that come will be easily taken out by the combined powers of both your husband’s House and the royal family.’’

He was correct with that. You made a decision right then and gingerly extended a hand out, your lips carefully curving into the poised smile that you had spent days practicing with your tutor.

“Well then, I will look forward to your assistance, Duke Kim.’’

Namjoon’s charming smile sobered into a more reserved and serious expression as he clasped your delicate hand in his own. You could feel the calluses of his hand, which was different from what you had expected a nobleman’s hands to be like. His touch was cold, too, the kind of cold that seemed less human and more marble. You faintly remembered that Yoongi’s hands were like that too, and your cheeks lightly flushed at the rather intimate memory that unfolded at that thought before you could force yourself back to earth.

Namjoon leaned down slightly as he raised your hand up, his lips brushing against your knuckles. Though this was a common gesture exchanged between those of the nobility, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You wanted to pull your hand away, a strange paranoia in your throat that someone else would witness this and view polite courtesy with slanderous eyes, but you forced yourself to keep your hand steady.

You, still caught up in your own thoughts, did not witness the way Namjoon’s lips twisted into a teasing smirk as his eyes flitted to the window and made eye contact with the beady eyes of the crow perched outside of the window. The bird, having been caught, fluttered its feathers in agitation and let out a strangled caw. Then, it stretched out its inky wings, each hollow bone crackling slightly, and flapped away.

Namjoon straightened his back, gently letting go of your hand. You hurriedly allowed your hand to fall back at your side.

“How amusing…,’’ he murmured faintly, his voice barely above a whisper. You blinked rapidly; you were unable to catch the words he had spoken.

“I apologize, but what did you say? I couldn’t hear what you had said just now,’’ you questioned.

Namjoon was about to open his mouth to brush off his comment when the door of the receiving room slammed open with such force that Namjoon would’ve been surprised if there wasn’t a crack in the frame. You spun around to look at who was there, and your mouth dropped slightly open when you saw the Duke standing there.

“Yoongi, what are you—,’’ you tried to speak, but your words were cut off as the Duke marched up to you and grabbed your elbow, pulling you behind him protectively. You tried to take a look at Duke Kim, but the Duke only moved to shield your view.

“If you have any words to say to my wife, you can also speak them in front of me. If you were to come by, it would’ve been more proper to inform me before your arrival,’’ the Duke’s words were like ice. You could feel yourself shiver. You, who had become accustomed to the softer and more gentle tone the Duke had taken with you, had never heard the Duke speak like that before, with such bite and barely restrained anger.

Perhaps the Duke could sense the way you had tensed. The imposing aura around him softened a bit, but he still remained firmly in between Duke Kim and you.

Namjoon smiled good-naturedly, raising his hands to show that he didn’t mean any harm. He had never seen Yoongi so hostile before, not even when he had been on the front of the battlefield soaked in blood. Even when he had the king of an opposing kingdom on his knees, begging and wailing in front of him, Yoongi hadn’t even flinched before he had executed the miserable coward. But now, Yoongi could barely contain the aggression in his eyes as he stared down his closest friend.

Namjoon couldn’t help the desire to just mess around with his friend. After all, it was rare to see Yoongi out of control; Namjoon’s nature, having lived for quite some time, leaned towards anything he found interesting and easy to control. He had never viewed Yoongi as easy to control, not with the power that seemed to overbearingly seep from every pore of the man, but this situation… Namjoon could barely conceal the sheer expression of glee at the thought of what he was about to do. His eyes, which he usually concealed as a dark brown, flickered with a hint of crimson, a shade that strikingly matched Yoongi’s typical eye color.

He stepped closer to the Duke, settling a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and leaning close to Yoongi’s ear. His voice was barely above a whisper, but Yoongi’s acute senses easily picked it up. You, however, could only look on in confusion.

“Your wife…I can see why you’re so infatuated with her. I hope I can learn more about her.”

If it weren’t for the years of friendship between the two, Yoongi would have not had any qualms with killing Namjoon on the spot. Yoongi’s pupils dilated, the color of his eyes bleeding brightly, and his hands curled into fists, his blunt nails leaving bloody crescent marks imprinted in his flesh. Namjoon nodded politely to you as he walked past the Duke, his playful eyes meeting your confused eyes. The soft click of the door shutting ascertained his departure.

“My Lord,’’ your voice was soft as you carefully crept towards the Duke. There was no response. You tentatively called out: “Yoongi?’’

Your call of his name seemed to snap him out of his bloodthirst as he quickly turned around and grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you towards him until your body was firmly pressed against his. You gasped as he cradled the back of your head, his hands twisting in your locks of hair, and kissed you. It felt like he was devouring you; in that moment, each breath you had was also his. His lips moved almost brutally against yours, and you felt a whine emerge from your throat as he harshly nipped your soft bottom lip with his teeth. Your lips barely had time to part slightly before his tongue was in your mouth, exploring each crevice. You could only hold onto him, fists curled weakly in his white dress shirt and your mind dizzy from a combined mix of lack of oxygen and heated frenzy.

His hands were about to push down the sleeves of your dress and expose your heated skin to the cold air when a sharp knock on the door interrupted him. He seemed to pay no heed to it, his lips still bruising against yours, but you managed to finally pull a bit away from him. The string of saliva that showed the previous heated connection of your mouths caused you to frantically turn your head away in shame to break it. You sucked in a large swallow of cold air. Your knees were soft, your bones barely unable to hold you up; you were about to tumble down when he caught you and swept you up in his arms. Despite the murderous aura that was pouring out of him, he gently let you down onto the sofa in the room, and you watched with hazy eyes as he stormed out of the room.

That night, as you nuzzled your face into the silk pillows of the bed and slept soundly, the servant who was unfortunate enough to have been sent to interrupt the Duke’s time with his rumored beloved wife would meet his end. After that, no one would ever dare to come near any rooms with closed doors in fear that they would meet their hopeless demise at the end of the Duke’s famous blade.

After weeks of you busily preparing for the celebration alongside numerous lessons, the day of the long-awaited birthday banquet finally arrived. Each important noble was to show up, less they be ridiculed by the rest of their peerage, including those from your previous family. Though you had initially did not want to invite them, your logic won over your heart, and the king and the crown princess were to come to the ball too. Ah, you could feel a headache coming on at the very thought.

Little did you know, you would come to regret this choice later that evening.

But now, in this very moment, you were too busy ensuring that everything was perfect. The hall where the banquet would be held hadn’t been used in what looked to be years, a surprise considering how well-maintained most of the places you frequented in the manor were, and you had the servant staff wipe down every single corner of the hall until it gleamed. Marble and silver, now shining gorgeously in the bright chandelier light, were decorated with luxurious drapes made out of rich crimson cloth and gorgeous arrangements of blooming white and red flowers.

By the time the evening had arrived, the hall was already filled with much of the nobility and a few commoners who were wealthy. The Duke was to escort you in, and you had to admit that he looked even more handsome dressed up. His hair was carefully slicked back, showing off his stern marble-carved features. He extended his hand out for you to take, and you lightly placed your hand into his grasp. He pulled you a bit closer to him, his movement soft so you wouldn’t trip, and you heard his voice, low and a bit rougher than usual, by your ear.

“You look…,’’ he swallowed before he continued speaking,’’ beautiful tonight.’’

You could only look at him, dumbfounded, as heat rushed to your cheeks and a silly euphoria settled buzzingly in your veins. His words were clumsy, a rare occurrence for the man who always remained coolly composed. You smiled widely, and he averted his gaze, though you noticed his ears were tinted a slight red. Then, the doors were opened, and the both of you stepped out into the stairs at the very front of the hall.

“The Duke and Duchess of the House of Min has entered.’’ The steward called out, his voice echoing in the hall.

A hush covered the hall as everyone’s eyes flitted to where you stood by the side of your husband. You heard a soft murmur rise up as their eyes fell on you.

You had paid careful attention to the arrangements of the hall and dressed in a manner that fit it. The seamstress that the Duke had sent you had been the most highly sought in the kingdom, perhaps even of the neighboring kingdom, and her talent resonated in the gown you were adorned in. Billowing layers of deep red, accentuated by bits of sparkling diamonds and pearls and sparkling silver embroidery, swathed your waist, and the sleeves, made out of a transparent material, delicately puffed out around your arms. The placement of the neckline of the dress carefully concealed the mark by your collarbone. With your shoulders set back in a poised posture, you looked much different from the nervous and trembling girl who had gotten married a few months ago. There was no doubt that you were anything but gorgeous, perhaps, though many didn’t dare to say it aloud, even more gorgeous than the crown princess.

The hold of the Duke on you seemed to tighten even more on you as he opened his mouth to greet the guests, his tone frigid compared to the warm smile you carefully had on. His words were short, almost dismissive in a way, and the moment they ended, the music from the orchestra resumed to brighten up the cold atmosphere.

He carefully helped you down the stairs, ensuring that your heels would delicately sink into the plush carpet instead of slip and send you into an embarrassing, sprawling tumble. You couldn’t help the way your lips grew even bigger into a smile at the gentle way he led you; truly, though he didn’t show his love often outside of the animalistic way he held you in the bedroom, he was sweet to you. By the time your feet hit the floor with a soft clack, the two of you were crowded by many nobles.

They all clamored to get the Duke’s attention, trying to take advantage of the first proper event the House of Min was hosting. The Duke coldly looked at them, and many of them darted away, leaving a select amount of nobles in front of the two of you. When one noble was done talking, he would leave, and another would dart to take his place. You were to smile and nod lightly whenever they were to mention you in a compliment in an attempt to warm the Duke up towards their offers.

After a bit of time, your feet began to ache in the heeled shoes that you had forced them in, and the sides of the shoes viciously dug into the tender flesh of your feet. You tried to shift your weight, but the pain refused to settle. You decided that you were going to fetch a servant to bring you a comfier pair of shoes and rest a bit in the ladies’ powder room.

“My husband,’’ you leaned in close to his ear, keeping your voice low. “My feet are aching. I’m going to the powder room to rest for a little while.’’

He nodded, but as you were about to slightly wobble away, he clasped your hand and, in front of the other nobles, pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You could hear an audible gasp and the rising volume of chatter in the hall as people witnessed the rare sight of affection. The Duke, who many viewed through fearful eyes, was looking at you so gently. Now, it didn’t seem so impossible for the rumor of him being infatuated with you to be true.

“Come back soon, my wife. I will be waiting for you,’’ he spoke into your skin, his lips tickling you a bit. You fondly smiled at him, feeling much like a maiden, as he let go of your hand before leaving to send a servant for better shoes and continuing your way to the powder room.

You settled into the seat in the powder room with a soft exhale, closing your eyes briefly. Finally, you could relieve your poor feet from the aches and pinches of your previous heeled shoes. You heard the door open, and your eyes opened to see who it was.

It was the crown princess.

She was as beautiful as ever, with gleaming strands of hair rolled up in a curling updo and a gown that did little to hide the delicate curves of her body. She wasn’t alone, though; she was accompanied by her usual entourage of three unmarried girls from other high-ranking aristocratic families.

“Must be rather lovely to be able to express such affection with your husband,’’ the crown princess spoke. Unlike the angelic disposition that she exuded when she kept her mouth shut, her tone was venomous, and her words were like hidden blades. You recalled the gossip you had overheard when you had been living in the palace. The crown princess was obsessed with the Duke, your husband, and had wanted to marry him. This was hidden from outside of the palace, but maids liked to talk. She would often go to the manor he had near the palace, but he would refuse on seeing her every time.

In fact, though you did not know this, the King had been planning to marry her to the Duke to strengthen the ties to the House of Min, but the Duke had insisted on marrying you.

You barely could keep back the sigh of exhaustion that threatened to escape your lips. God, having your feet dwell in agony would have been much more preferable than having a conversation with such a… You refrained from continuing your thoughts, not wanting to dirty yourself by using such vulgar language.

“Your Highness, would it not be proper to greet me first before continuing onto a different topic?’’ your lips strained in the forced polite smile you had on.

One girl stepped forward, her face pinched in anger.

“You! How dare you speak to Her Highness like that!’’

“You must be from the Count Park family, correct? To speak so disrespectfully to someone of a higher rank… The etiquette teachers must be rather lenient on their lessons.’’ You could feel the start of a headache throb in your skull. “And, have you forgotten? I am also of the same status as Her Highness as her sister, and I have married into a family that does not take disrespect lightly.’’

The girl flinched before stepping back. She refused to relax the aggressive expression she had on. The crown princess’s demure smile stiffened a bit.

“Yes, my younger sister. We are related,’’ the crown princess stepped closer to you. You kept yourself steady as she halted in front of you and placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And as your older sister, I want to provide some helpful advice to you.’’

To the outside, she seemed like she was the perfect caring older sister. But you knew better. This was the same girl who had taken the main part in looking down on you with her mother, the queen, when you were younger at the palace. She hid the darker, more vicious parts of her under a beautiful mask.

“I am grateful for your care of me, sister. Since we are so close, and you didn’t bother using formalities in the first place, you must not mind me talking to you casually then.’’ You watched her with careful eyes, waiting for her to strike.

“Not at all. In fact, I was hoping that we would drop the formalities between the two of us. I am quite worried about the relationship the Duke has with you. You are so innocent, sister, that you are not aware of the way men work. They treat you so well in front of you that you convince yourself that they’re in love with you, but behind you, they commit vulgar acts.’’

“That is a rather unpleasant way to view the world, is it not? Besides, the Duke, my husband, is not the typical man, though you must already be quite aware of that with the way you used to cling onto him, hmm?’’

Her eyes flashed menacingly, and the smile on the crown princess’s face grew, warping an angel’s mask into the face of a demon. The fingers of the hand she had placed on your shoulder tightened its grip, her nails lightly digging into your skin.

“Oh, you are innocent. The Duke is like any other man. Do you ever wonder why the garden in the back of the manor on the territory is so well taken care of? Do you know why he chose to marry you, a forgotten princess with half of the blood from a low wench?’’ Her fingernails were drawing blood, but you couldn’t focus on the pain, not with the way your eyes couldn’t leave from her sadistic face. “You were fortunate enough to look similar to his first lover. No one knows anything about her other than her death, but she’s the reason why anyone who dares to even bruise a flower from the garden is immediately killed. She’s the reason why he even chose to marry you.”

She stood back; you could barely feel the prickling pain of the bloody fingernail marks in your skin. Your throat closed up, and the noble bravery you had feigned earlier seemed to mock you now.

“Father told me that the Duke, after seeing a picture of your face, wanted to marry you. Why? You know the Duke is not foolish enough to believe in love at first sight. The Duke has never cared for anyone in his life, yet he carries a painting of his first lover with him everywhere. Why would he marry you? You must’ve asked yourself this, too. The whole kingdom has! You should be smart enough to figure out the real reason why. You can check for yourself, but you know my words are true.’’

You couldn’t say anything as she whirled around on her heels and stepped out. You hated the pity you could feel from her entourage. Even the girl who had shouted at you earlier had a glimpse of pity in her eyes, mixed in with a mocking glee, as she left. Did they pity you for being attacked by the princess? Or did they pity you because they agreed with her?

You wanted to shrug off the words of the crown princess. She was jealous. Jealous that you, her younger less blessed sister, got the man she wanted. But some part of your gut told you that there was a ring of truth to her words. You remembered the odd looks the staff had given you when you had attempted to go to the garden.

Your own thoughts seemed to choke you. Was she right? Was she wrong? Could you fool yourself into thinking she was wrong? You could feel the agony of your heart well up and splinter into small fragments of glass.

You wanted to run away.

But you couldn’t.

Somehow, you managed to get yourself together. At one point, you realized that you were spending too much time in the powder room. It would be suspicious, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t bring yourself to return back to the Duke’s side. Besides, he was talking to the king now. It’d feel awkward to face the King after having such an unpleasant conversation with his daughter.

You leaned against the wall, watching the orchestra play and people dance on the floor, twirling layers of sparkling colored dresses and sleek muted colors of suits. Your throat felt dry, and a nausea churned in your stomach.

“Duchess Min, it’s an odd sight seeing you so solemn.’’

You looked up, your eyes widening. Namjoon was standing in front of you, dressed up in an elegant suit. He smiled at you, flashing two dimples. His eyes were warm. Your cheeks flushed slightly from embarrassment as you remembered the last time you had seen him. You had been checking the materials delivered for the banquet with Namjoon when you had stumbled over a box. You had braced yourself for the impact of the hard floor, but you ended up falling on top of something much softer than the floor. To your profound shame, you had fallen on Namjoon, who had thrown himself down onto the floor to avoid you from hitting it. You had profusely apologized once you had gotten up, but he had brushed it off. Thus, you had decided to brush off the memory as well but seeing Namjoon again made you feel extremely embarrassed.

“Nam— I mean Duke Kim. I didn’t see you earlier.”

“Well, I don’t really enjoy coming to these events, but you did spend a lot of time working on it, and I wanted to see the results of your efforts. You can rest easy knowing that your first banquet looks a lot better than the tenth banquet for many families.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face. The sickening mixture of nausea and numbness seemed to fade away and settle itself back into the marrow of your bones. If you simply erased the incident in which you had embarrassed yourself by falling upon him, the both of you had developed a more than suitable connection over the time you spent working together. Though the two of you were often surrounded by servants and Jungkook, the quick wit of Namjoon shown through each time you spent with each other.

After all, few men could get into the good graces of your husband. You, although a bit more wary after the troubling incidents you had encountered with your old tutor, found yourself falling into the pace of friendship with Namjoon.

“Thank you, but, Duke Kim, you do know that I could not have pulled this off without your help. The Hall only looks this splendid because the quality of your products is of the finest in the kingdom.’’ Many nobility often used compliments for their own advantage, but in this case, your praise was genuine.

“Then, as a way to thank me, may I ask for this dance?’’ Namjoon charmingly smiled. You noticed that the previous music had stopped playing, allowing time for people to switch their partners. Namjoon extended a hand, bowing graciously. You let out a light laugh at the mischievous sheen in his eyes and reached out your own hand, about to clasp his in yours when…

“My wife, I need to speak with you alone.’’

Your hand hovered in the air as you turned your head to look at the voice; your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Duke in front of you. He looked terrifying, even more so than the time he had burst into the receiving room when you had first met Namjoon as Duke Kim. His eyes gleamed a fierce red, and his expression looked murderous, the aura around him seeming to cool the air. The music barely managed to warm the chills rising upon the skin of everyone in the hall.

You could barely hear the faint noise of strings dragging themselves out into a sweet melody. No one else seemed to either with the way everyone’s eyes fell upon the three of you.

Was he angry because he didn’t want you to ruin the reputation of the House by getting close to another man? Did he view you as, what the commoners would often refer to, as a wench? You felt hurt at the thought.

Before you could choke out a flustered and indignant response and possibly shatter the noble image of a duchess in the process, the Duke had already pulled you to him with a swift movement that left you clumsily crashing into his chest. Then, he all but dragged you out of the Hall.

Namjoon could only watch as the Duke disappeared with you, no look of amusement painted on his elegant features. Before, he might’ve grinned devilishly at the sight, but now, his chest seemed to twist and pull, an irony considering his true status.

Near Namjoon, standing next to the crown princess who kept gently smiling but had a look in her eyes like she wanted to tear off your face with her pretty nails, the King rejoiced in this new outcome. He was well aware of the nobility’s muttering of taking the king off the throne; with the rumor and proof of the fearsome Duke being infatuated with the royal 8th princess, the muttering of rebellion would die down. Though the King trembled like a coward in front of the Duke, what laid inside his heart was one of a selfish bastard.

When the Duke finally left, carrying the frigid tension with him, the whole room seemed to sigh in relief. But for the three who stood above the crowd, two were filled with envy and one was filled with greed.

You didn’t know where Yoongi was leading you. He had grasped your wrist in his own icy cold grip, and although his pace was unrelenting, he made sure that he wasn’t walking too fast in case you would slip. You didn’t know why Yoongi…the Duke had reacted that way.

If it were the you of the past who frequently indulged in sappy romantic novels in which a brooding male lead fell in love with a witty heroine, you would’ve been caught in a delusion that he was jealous. But the you of the present had lessons that left you stiff and every rule of etiquette and propriety drilled into your brain. The you of now was aware that the intimate nights in which you could fool yourself into believing the Duke loved you was nothing more than a fallacy. The you of now was aware of the truth. Though the crown princess wanted to hurt you and she was many despicable things, you, having grown up with her for part of your lonely childhood, knew that she wasn’t a liar. You fought the bitterness that threatened to envelope your heart.

You broke out of your thoughts just as the Duke had opened the door to your shared bedroom. He had suddenly halted, and you nearly clumsily crashed into his broad back.

“What are you doing, my Lord?’’ you managed to say,’’ The banquet in your honor is still ongoing. We can’t leave our guests like—.’’

You stopped speaking, your words caught in your throat, as Yoongi whirled around. You were taken aback by the look in his eyes. He looked almost feral in this moment, his eyes darkened in a tumultuous mix of emotions that only caused shivers to tremble fiercely down your spine.

“I need to…,’’ he closed his eyes, as if he could calm himself down, but when he had opened his eyes, the emotions in his eyes seemed to be even more heightened.

He suddenly pulled down the front of your gown—you had shouted in alarm, an expression of shame painted over your face as beads and pearls popped off the delicate fabric and hit the floor—and pressed a gentle kiss against the mark on your clavicle. His lips, a rosy pink, were a breathtaking contrast against the distinct red of the mark.

“Duke!’’ you had exclaimed, trying to push him away. “Although we may be husband and wife, you can not behave in such an…outlandish way, not when the banquet is still occurring!’’

His lips had curled up in a small smile, an expression so different from his regular brooding, stoic look that it would’ve left his aids in mute shock at the sight. You could feel the movement of his lips against your skin. He didn’t make any further moment, and you had believed him to be more tame. Perhaps he had regained his senses as a refined nobleman.

Or…perhaps not.

“It is typical here to grant a wish for one’s birthday, is it not?’’ he softly spoke, his lips ticklish against your soft flesh,’’ And I wish to have you.’’

He tilted his head back slightly to look up at you with red eyes shadowed by ink-black eyelashes. The expression in his eyes… You couldn’t put your finger on why they looked so loving but so vulnerable. He was different from the first time you had met him. He was even different from the second time you had met him at your wedding. Why did he look at you this way? Why had he chosen you?

You could only continue to desperately ask yourself this in your heart, but you knew the answer. Your old tutor knew the answer. The crown princess knew the answer. Hell, didn’t everyone know the answer? How foolish and lovesick you were, (Y/n)! But you did not mind the temporary illusion of being his only one love if he could hold you like that was true.

A loud yelp left your lips at the sudden pain in your clavicle, tears filling your eyes. He had bitten you! When you had been distracted with your thoughts, he had slyly dug his teeth into your mark.

“Don’t be distracted by anyone else when you’re with me,’’ his voice was raspy at the edges, almost unhinged in a strange way. “Don’t think of anything else but me.’’

The pain faded into a faint tingle, and you laughed breezily as you looped your arms around the back of his neck. You were the only one he was holding. You were the only one he loved right now; that was right.

“I’ll only think of you. I suppose it is tradition to grant one wish, Yoongi.”

Every restraint Yoongi had been holding back seemed to snap then as he devoured you with his lips. You were faintly reminded of the way he had kissed you in the receiving room after Namjoon had left, how he had seemed to want to imprint the mark of his lips onto yours. You were caught up in the vicious heat of his own touch as his tongue probed deeper into your mouth that you didn’t notice his hand slipping up to your evening dress. He practically ripped off your dress, his strength tearing through layers of silk and sending another shower of tiny sparkling beads to the ground, and you could only make a sound of discontent against his lips as the cold air nipped your flushed skin.

You took a step back to take in a breath, but he matched each of your steps, his lips still firmly against yours. The back of your legs knocked against the bed, and you ungracefully fell onto the bed. The breath spun out of your lungs, and you were vaguely reminded of the time the Duke had taken your purity on the same very bed. You inelegantly climbed back further onto the bed, your palms sinking into the bedding. Yoongi pulled away, and barely a moment later, you felt his hands tie a strip of silk fabric around your eyes.

“Yoongi, what are you—?’’ you sputtered slightly as your sight was suddenly taken away. Your voice was cut off in a haggard breath as you felt his hand slip down your delicate flesh to where your most vulnerable place was. You felt the tips of his fingers against your already soaked folds, and you heard a soft groan from Yoongi.

“You make me want to sin,’’ Yoongi’s voice sounded farther away as he moved down. You fumbled around a bit, trying to figure out where Yoongi had gone, before you realized that he had settled down further down your legs. Your mouth opened to speak, but a moan stretched out of your throat out as his lips closed around your throbbing clit and lightly sucked on it.

“You taste so fucking good.’’ You heard him say, and your cheeks flushed from embarrassment, before your mind went blank from pleasure. He licked your clit in short flicks that left your toes curled before flattening his tongue against your pussy, pressing your soft thighs deeper into the bed as his tongue probed even deeper into your sensitive walls. You could only rasp out whiny sighs, calls of his name that garbled into incoherent squeals, as every nerve in your body trembled. Your senses seemed to be even more heightened by your lack of sight, and you could feel every slight movement of his tongue deep within you.

Your legs unconsciously curled tighter around his head, and before you could collect your thoughts, you were pressing his face even deeper into you. You could hear the soft schlick sounds and the slurping of your essence faintly underneath your wanton cries. You didn’t care about your propriety, not with how good you felt. Your hips raised slightly as you felt yourself tip further near your release, and then you were spiraling and crashing into your climax, your mouth straining open in a loud pitched keen.

When you finally settled down, you felt the lips of the Duke meet yours for a heated kiss. You could taste the mix of your own juices and his saliva, and you sighed lightly into his mouth.

Your breathing was uneven by the time he broke away to let you breathe, and your mind buzzed from the aftermath of your orgasm. You should’ve built up stamina from the many nights you had already spent with the Duke, but the blindfold seemed to rob you of it, leaving you practically limp already.

“Onto your hands and knees,’’ you heard the Duke say. You whined in protest, but your body automatically began to rise up and blindly fall onto your hands and knees despite your mind not wanting to. You felt something hot press against the slicked folds of your pussy, and you barely could open your mouth to protest. You just came; you were too sensitive. These words were lost, replaced with a soft sigh of pleasure, as you felt the stretch of your walls around Yoongi’s cock. The press of Yoongi into you caused your cum and juices to leak out of your sensitive pussy and run down your inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking tight, squeezing around me like this,’’ Yoongi rasped into your ear,’’ You just came, and you’re still ready for more? You’re a whore underneath that perfection.’’

You barely were allowed to adjust to the intrusion before he pulled out and slammed back in so hard that your arms that were holding you up wobbled. Another rough piston of his hips against your ass sent your sprawling onto the bed, your mouth opening in lewd cries and practically drooling. You couldn’t make one single thought beyond the spine-tingling pleasure you received from having him so deep within you and the graze of his calloused palms against your soft breasts. The mix of the gentle feeling of his fingertips twisting your hard nipples and the rough feeling of being fucked so hard made your mind spin.

Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. Those are the only words you could say, and it’s his name you cried out the loudest when his next thrust caused his cock to bump against your womb. You came a little at the feeling, toes curling in tightly and your hands practically scratching at the sheets. And then you’re climbing again, about to crumble into another orgasm that’d steal the breath out of your lungs and make you forget about the ache of your body and heart. Before you could, Yoongi pulled out, his breath ragged, and you didn’t know what he was going to do, yearning helplessly for him to just thrust in and spill his seed into your trembling womb.

You let out a sharp cry of surprise when he tenderly pushed you onto your back and suddenly picked you up, and you grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and flex underneath his soft skin. You didn’t know where he was taking you until you felt something cold against your back. Glass? There was no glass on the walls in the bedroom except for the…window.

“Yoongi, if there are any guests out there who see us—,’’ your next words were cut off by him driving his cock back deep into you, crushing your breath and your next words. He set an unforgiving pace, his hips crashing against yours, and you whimpered and moaned so loud that you could barely hear the raspy groans being dragged out of Yoongi’s throat. You were reaching your high again, and you forgot the fear of being seen by any banquet guests.

You could tell Yoongi was reaching his high too, with the way he throbbed and stretched and hit you just right. You felt his hot breath spill against your sensitive skin.

“I’m going to cum in you, my wife. You’re going to have our child.’’ The Duke’s grip tightened around your hips, and you knew his touch was going to leave marks on your skin.

You let out a choked sob in response, urging him to pound you even further.

“Please, please, Yoongi, please,’’ you sputtered, your mouth dry as you beg for his touch. You were so close, just nearly there.

You wanted to cum so badly, wanted to feel Yoongi even deeper in you, and you wrapped your arms around Yoongi’s neck, letting out an alarmed squeal, as your back slipped slightly on the glass and sent you further down Yoongi’s cock, impaling you. That movement seemed to be both the undoing of you and Yoongi.

Your legs locked around his waist, and you could feel tears leak out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks as you cum hard. Your head slammed into the glass, and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as your walls squeezed and fluttered around his cock. Yoongi groaned, his cock throbbing in you, and you felt his teeth tear into the skin of your neck as he reached his own orgasm. You let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob as you felt him cum deep into your womb.

In that moment, you hoped new life would come forth. With a child, perhaps you wouldn’t feel so empty from thinking about Yoongi’s infatuation with his first love.

He rocked lightly, still buried deep within you, as if he heard your thoughts and wanted to seal his sperm deep within your fertile womb. You were too tired to do anything else as he slipped the blindfold off around your head and sent for servants to get the both of you cleaned. You, right then, were content with pretending that you were the only Yoongi loves.

And with the faint sound of music pulled out of strings humming through the manor and the warmth of a hot towel carefully cleaning you, you fell into an unsettled sleep.

Snow finally made way for the brightness of spring. The pure white of the landscape melted away into cold puddles of water and made way for grass, the vibrant color of emerald, to take a breath and peek into the sun. Specks of color bloomed in the form of tiny flowers, and you, who seemed to grow colder despite the warming of the seasons, were reminded of the garden in the back of the manor.

You were wilting; you could feel it. With nights plagued with dreams that let you bitterly numb in the morning and a head that seemed to throb at the slightest change of weather, it was unfortunate but not unexpected that the beginning of spring came with the beginning of your cold.

It was nothing major, but it left you stuck in bed, bleary eyes clinging to the drops of condensation rolling down the large glass windows of the bedroom. There was little for you to do, most of your work having been taken over by some of the Duke’s aids, and so you were stuck pondering over who you meant to the Duke. Due to your illness, you were kept in a separate room from the bedroom you shared with the Duke, and thus the seeds of the negative feelings you had been hiding in your heart began to sprout.

Many would’ve viewed this rest as a blessing but having time to get lost in your own thoughts to you was a curse.

You felt pathetic. The you who had freely run through the streets, the you who had wistfully sighed over romance novels, the you who had been so naïve would never have been this pathetic. Namjoon had visited you one day when you had started to finally recover from your ailment. You had remembered the shock that you had felt when you had opened the door to the balcony, wanting fresh air without a servant around, and taken a step out only to see Namjoon standing on the balcony.

“Namjoon, how did you get in here?’’ you asked. He smiled mysteriously at you but did not reply to your question, his eyes softening at the sight of you. You recalled the way you looked, so weak; your hair had been in a mess from having laid in bed all day, your cheeks had gotten sickly thin from your cold, and you were scandalously clad in your nightgown. You tightened the shawl you had thrown around your shoulders further around you.

“You don’t seem that well. I heard you were recovering, but I wanted to check in on you with my own two eyes.”

You sighed, trying to look disappointed in him, but the perk of your lip was not something that could be easily hidden from his sharp eyes.

“Well, aren’t you a good friend? But this isn’t proper.’’ You hushed your voice, taking a step back just in case any servants passing below happened to glance up at your balcony. “Does my Lord know you are here?”

“If Yoongi knew I was here, do you think he would’ve allowed me to get so close to you?’’ Namjoon’s smile turned a little bitter, though you did not know why. You nodded mutely, unconsciously pulling the shawl even tighter around you.

“This meeting isn’t proper either. My Lord must be afraid that I will make a fool out of the House of Min if I am not proper,’’ you spoke, your words hollow in your throat. You didn’t know why, but tears began to build up in your eyes and one drop slipped out, rolling down your cheek.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed slightly in concern, and he took a step closer to you. You took a step back, wiping your eyes frantically with your hands as you fought to keep the tremble out of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry,’’ you inhaled, closing your eyes and using your hands to cover your face as you fought to rein yourself in,’’ My deepest apologies. I can’t…I can’t believe I lost myself like that for a second, in front of my Lord’s closest friend either. Please pretend that you never saw anything.’’

Namjoon’s expression softened; he remembered how strong and carefree you had looked when he had first met you, and now you looked so weakened, both from the cold and the tears you tried to hold back. You were like gold when he had first met you, shining brilliantly, but now you were as fragile as glass. His heart, though he had rarely felt the use of it, began to ache slightly. He reached out, about to touch your head, but he couldn’t. He dropped his hand back towards his side.

“I…,’’ the words Namjoon had never said in his lifetime rose in his throat. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from speaking such human words; Namjoon was not human. He was not kind. But for you, he could be. “What can I do to help you?’’

Your shoulders froze, your palms wet from the droplets of tears. You were desperate now; no sense of propriety made its way to your mind as you reached out and grasped Namjoon’s hand with your own trembling hands. He stiffened at your touch, at how delicate it was.

“Please…,’’ your voice was shakily soft, hoarse from your lack of use and your tears, your head lowered in shame. You were bowing now in front of him, hopelessly unable to meet his gaze. You were so pathetic, (Y/n); you didn’t deserve the title of princess. You didn’t deserve the title of Duchess. Bu your mouth continued to move, rushing words out. “Yoongi…the Duke…This is too much to ask you; I know this is too much to ask of you, Namjoon. I’ll owe you forever. Please, find out who the Duke’s first love, and…’’

You looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red and glossy with tears as you pushed out your last words. “Does he even hold me in his heart?’’

Namjoon’s eyes looked so conflicted then, his smile looking a bit colder on his lips. Even then, you clung onto his hand, shaking and pleading silently. Finally, he grasped your hands with his other hand and gently pushed your touch off of his.

“I will.” The smile he put on next was warm, but it seemed forced, too wide and too happy for what you were asking. “I suppose next time you will owe me a favor, Duchess.’’

You lowered your head back down in shame, and when you finally managed to raise it back up again, Namjoon had been long gone.

You were stuck on the balcony, the spring air, which should’ve been warm, cooling down. The sky faded from a pale blue to a dark gray, clouds rolling in to signify the season’s famous sign of pouring rain, but you could only stand there, frozen, as the wind lifted locks of your hair. When you felt the first droplet of rain against your cheek, rolling down reminiscent of your own tears, you finally broke out of your trance. Pinching the fabric of the shawl to keep it from falling down, you, on shaky limbs, turned around, sliding open the glass door and heading in.

That moment would later turn out to be one of the very few last moments you would ever see Namjoon, your friend, ever again.

And you would later regret ever asking him for the favor.

A/N: As always, if you want to be added to the taglist for part 3, reply with a 👑. I make a new taglist for each part based on the emoji replies, so thank you for understanding and cooperating. If you enjoyed the story, leave a comment or a detailed review below!

Also, please send any memes/moodboards based on Lineage in! The more there are, the faster I work haha :)

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Bisous au Palais Garnier ~ MYG [M]

WORD COUNT: 4.5K

PAIRING: Mafia Leader! Yoongi x Assassin!Reader

GENRE: Mafia AU, smut, includes descriptions of violence, death, some french that probably isn’t 100% correct since I haven’t spoken or taken french in like nine years, oral (f receiving)

A/N: I hope you enjoy this!!

I just don't think I have the time this week babe. Yoongi's words echoed in your head as you stared at yourself in the mirror, your makeup was done to perfection to match your hair in the style you knew Yoongi loved on you. If this was going to be the only way you were going to get his attention then so be it. Dressed up to the nines in a silk-black backless ball gown, black strappy heels and a bright red lip so you could stand out just to Yoongi. The red lip was something he had picked for you months ago, telling you he couldn't wait to ruin it and rub it all over your face. The thought alone was enough to send shivers up and down your spine and have your core tingling as you rubbed your lips together making sure the lipstick was applied properly. It had to be perfect so that Yoongi knew what he had been missing out on.

"Are you ready yet? Some of us have been-" Taehyung, your best friend and Yoongi's right-hand man stood in the doorway shocked as he saw you. He'd seen you dressed up so many times but nothing compared to this, this was something you'd picked out and done all by yourself instead of having Yoongi's stylists working on you.

"Close your mouth Tae. You'll catch flies," You winked playfully as you got up from the dressing table and began to mentally prepare yourself for the evening. Tonight there was a charity auction at one of the most famous Opera houses in Paris, Yoongi had been invited because of his name in the Mafia business world and he of course took the chance to fly out right away. Having no idea that you would follow him with a plan to finally gain his attention after weeks of him being too busy to even acknowledge your presence in the same house as him. The two of you had been together for four years in secrecy from everyone but those who worked closely with him. It was mostly because of your past that he kept you hidden, a killer assassin that never missed a shot meant that you were the most wanted woman in Seoul and most other cities and countries where you'd preformed a hit.

"Yoongi will kill you for following him to Paris," Taehyung reminded you as you both headed out of your hotel room and down the large hallways of the grand hotel you were staying at. Just down the road from Yoongi's hotel since you didn't want to be too far away from him.

"Relax, he won't kill me. He loves me too much," You giggled as you stepped into the elevator, hitting the ground floor parking garage and staring at Taehyung who still seemed so uneasy about all of this. It hadn't taken much convincing to bring him along to Paris with you, all you did was tell him that it was himself or Jungkook and he jumped at the chance. Mostly because he knew that Jungkook wouldn't protect you as good as he would, that and he was Yoongi's right-hand man, it was better that it was him rather than anybody else.

"What about me? He doesn't love me that much." He half-joked, you knew he was worried about Yoongi firing him or worse and it wouldn't be the first time that Yoongi had someone killed for going against his word but technically this wasn't against his word. Yoongi hadn't directly told you not to go to the party but he didn't exactly tell you to come, you just went on your own accord.

"I'll tell him not to, he listens to me." It was true, Yoongi took everything you said as gospel which was probably a bad thing in the wrong hands but with you, it was perfectly fine. The elevator ride was silent as Taehyung ran through his head what he was going to have to do to keep his job with Yoongi while you were planning on how you were going to gain Yoongi's attention. The attendance at the Palais Garnier was well above the thousands so it was going to be hard sticking out in a crowd but you had the perfect plan.

Yoongi stared over at Namjoon as they glanced around the grand staircase entrance, Namjoon was watching out for the real reason they were there. There had been sightings of Yoongi's number one enemy, Mark Lee, in Paris all week so he took advantage of the ball tonight to fly out, using it as an excuse for you. Telling you that the ball was strictly for show purposes and he had no intentions of having fun there. If you knew the real reason he'd flown to Paris he had no doubt in his mind that you'd chain him to the basement in his mansion until the sightings had finished. Mark had been the number one enemy of Yoongi's since starting in the Mafia business. Mark was on a warpath with Yoongi doing everything in his power to ruin what Yoongi had and for no good reason. It had just been the way things were, whenever Yoongi would do something important Mark would do whatever it took to take it down. Even going as far as to try and kill Yoongi which, didn't work out too well for Mark who was now in hiding from everyone close to Yoongi.

"So far, nothing out of the ordinary," Namjoon slowed down at the end of his sentence as he saw Taehyung ascending the stairs holding your hand as you casually spoke with one another.

"What is it? Did he show up?" Yoongi laughed cockily as he followed Namjoon's gaze, the cocky smile being wiped from his face as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Your head was thrown back in laughter as you spoke with Taehyung, even Yoongi knew Taehyung wasn't that funny.

"What is she doing here? I thought you-"

"I told her I was busy," He confirmed what Namjoon was going to say and the both of them stared as you and Taehyung headed into the grand hall where the evening was going to go ahead. Dancing, singing, drinking and auctioning for the charity of the night.

"Keep an eye out for Lee. I'll be inside." Yoongi growled, his eyebrows knitting together as he straightened out his blazer and began heading in the direction of you and Taehyung. He was going to keep his distance for a while, figure out what you were doing here and with Taehyung nonetheless.

"Thank you all for coming tonight, I can't even begin explaining how much this would mean to the charity to see you all here tonight," A French woman began speaking into a microphone but Yoongi drowned her out, keeping his eyes strictly on you as you and Taehyung faced one another. Did you have any idea that he was watching you? That he was even there? He felt his blood began to boil as he watched you place your hand on Taehyung's arm and lead him over to the dance floor as if you were a happy couple. The two of you lost in your own world as you span around the dance floor together.

Taehyung felt uneasy as he wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly dancing around on the floor to the slow waltz that was being played by a live orchestra.

"At least look like you're having fun or my plan won't work," You pouted playfully as you stared up at Taehyung, locking eyes with him as he swept you around the floor. Ignoring everyone as you danced together, your dress flowing out perfectly as though it was made in a Disney movie.

"What do you want me to do?" Taehyung questioned as he began spinning you under his arm, bringing you so close to him your faces were inches away from one another.

"He's found us, make it look like we're flirting?" You suggested but Taehyung shook his head while laughing at you,

"Why not?" You seemed genuinely surprised that Taehyung wouldn't do that for you and Taehyung inched closer to you.

"Because I value my life," He whispered before spinning you back out from his arms and going back to a normal waltz, glancing over at his boss that had his eyes glued onto you. Taehyung could feel how much trouble he was going to be in when Yoongi would eventually come down and speak to you but a waitress distracted him.

"Drink?" A waitress called out, interrupting Yoongi's line of vision as he tore his eyes away from you to accept the drink from the woman beside him. Downing the whiskey before giving her the glass back and going back to you but he'd lost the pair of you in the crowds of people that had joined you on the dance floor.

"Don't frown too much Min, your face will freeze." The whole room seemed to fade away to Yoongi as he turned to see Mark standing behind him. A blonde girl holding onto either of his arms as they giggled wildly, probably having no idea what Mark was saying to make them giggling the way they were. Yoongi had seen this before. The girls were like groupies but for Mafia men, they would latch on to the first powerful man they saw and work their way up to the bosses where they could stay.

"Mark. What a pleasure," Yoongi's tone dripped with sarcasm as he stared down at the smaller man that excused himself from the ladies, giving them both some cash to go and bid on whatever they saw fit.

"It's a surprise seeing you here. The last I heard you weren't going to leave Seoul, something or...Should I say someone, had all of your time and attention?" Yoongi's heart began to race at the thought of Mark knowing about you, you were the one thing anybody could use against Yoongi. His weakness. One of the reasons he still kept your relationship hidden after all these years was because he was too afraid of someone coming after you.

"News is, you've gone soft," Mark added as they stood together at the balcony that overlooked the dance floor, Yoongi's eyes were scanning over everybody to find you to set his mind at ease but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Soft? No, never soft." Yoongi mumbled as he continued to scan the crowd, heart racing as Mark continued to drag on about Yoongi not being the cold-blooded leader he used to be but Yoongi wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to find you and Taehyung together, scanning over every inch of the room he could but there wasn't even a sign of you anywhere.

"Are you alone tonight Mark? Or are the groupies keeping you company?" He turned to look at Mark who was staring at him already, all he had to do was try and keep calm. If Mark had done anything to you he would have been bragging about it by now instead of beating around the bush the way that he was.

"The news in Seoul is, you lost your money and business...Do they know that?" Yoongi stated it loud enough for the two blondes that had begun coming back to hear and they left as soon as they heard the statement, Mark began to bite down on his cheek feeling the anger begin to bubble up in his body.

"What makes you think I won't make a move right here?" He questioned Yoongi who simply shook his head not believing for even a minute that Mark would try something at such a publicised event, stepping closer to the man so he would whisper in his ear but Mark let out a groan as something sharp hit him in the side.

"Because you're too chicken to try anything," You whispered to Mark as he began to fall limp in your arms, Yoongi's eyes widened as you pulled out a small knife from Mark's side and slid it into a holster that was around your thigh.

"Tae? Sort it?" You questioned as Mark began to let out small whines as he felt the blood seeping from his side, you'd hit him where you knew he'd die almost instantaneously but it seemed as though he was putting up a fight.

"Is there a problem?" A French guard questioned as he noticed Mark's body limping forward in Taehyung's arms, mumbling as he began to lose consciousness.

"Pardon! Notre ami est un peu ivre," You answered in French telling the guard that you were sorry your friend had a little too much to drink, you pulled it off by staring up at the guard innocently who nodded before leaving not noticing the blood pooling around Mark's side.

"I'll meet Joon and we'll take him out the back," Taehyung groaned as he began carrying Mark towards Namjoon that was just outside the hall. As soon as you were alone Yoongi stared at you waiting for some kind of explanation but you let out an exaggerated sigh as you looked at yourself in the compact mirror,

"I need to go and clean my cheek and hands," You whined seeing a small spot of blood on your cheek and hands as you strolled away from Yoongi who wasn't going to let you get off this easily and began following you.

"What were you thinking?!" Yoongi cried out as you entered the small women's bathroom together, three female all turned to look at you and Yoongi with a confused expression before leaving the room hastily. Yoongi stepped closer to you as you stood at the marble countertops washing your hands of the blood as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Doing your best not to let Yoongi get the better of you, he knew what he could do with a single stare at you and that was, have you weak the knees for him.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was busy," You rolled your eyes at him as you turned to give him your attention,

"I took away what was making you busy. Now, will you give me attention," As soon as Yoongi heard you asking for attention he smirked at you, a giant grin taking over his face as he realised what had made you fly all the way out here for him

"Is my baby needy?" He chuckled darkly, stepping closer to you so you would step back, only you hit the countertop and realised you had nowhere else to go.

"Can you blame me? You leave me alone for weeks and then run away to Paris without me," You pouted as Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, chuckling softly as he stared into your eyes.

"I was here on business," He referred to Mark as business and you sighed shaking your head,

"I took care of that business," You spoke as Yoongi carefully sat you on the edge of the marble counter and cupped your face in his hands, he knew he was supposed to be mad at you for putting yourself in danger the way you did but he couldn't stay mad at you when he knew how much he loved you. He'd been doing all of this for you, making sure Mark was out of the way once and for all so that you could finally come out in the open as a couple.

"You could have been hurt." He was doing his best to seem more annoyed at you than he was when in reality he was impressed with how smoothly you had gotten rid of Mark and he shouldn't have expected less.

"I'm an assassin, we take care of business quick and easy." The nonchalant attitude you were putting across only seemed to turn Yoongi on more until he couldn't resist it anymore. He ran his thumb over your lips and you smirked knowing that you had him in the palm of your hand,

"You wore my colour," He whispered happily as he lent forward, your lips centimeters away from each other as you nodded your head. Eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to kiss you,

"I did." You whispered before he finally crashed his lips against yours, the fire spread throughout your body and you smirked against his lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist as you dragged him closer to you not wanting the kiss to end.

"You look breathtaking tonight, did you wear this for me?" Yoongi whispered against your neck as his hands carefully ran over the silk fabric you were wearing, causing you to hiss out as he rose the fabric up to expose your bare core. A disapproving look took over his face as soon as he saw that you were bare underneath,

"What?" You questioned as innocently as you could,

"If I wore underwear it would ruin the effect of the silk," Another innocent look stared back at Yoongi when he knew far too well that your actions weren't as innocent as they seemed.

"My dirty little girl," He hummed as he began kissing down your exposed neck, collarbone until he knelt down on the floor in front of the countertops, face to face with your core as he licked his lips slowly.

"Look at you, already dripping and I haven't touched you yet," He cooed as he ran one finger between your folds, slicking his finger up with your juices. The smallest touch from him making you hiss out in pleasure,

"Has it been that long? Just so desperate for any kind of touch?" He cocked his eyebrow up as he placed a small kiss on your left thigh and another on your right.

"Too long," You whispered in an annoyed tone only making Yoongi smirk more as he moved forward. Blowing cold air against your throbbing clit making you whine out at him, staring at him with pleading eyes as you waited for him to do something to you.

Without warning Yoongi leant forward to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking on your clit as he attached himself to you.

"Shit! Y-Yoongi!" You cried out, throwing your head back against the mirror as he began to moan against you,

"Taste even better than I remember," He chuckled as he began to slide his tongue through your folds a few times before attaching himself to your clit once again.

"Oh fuck," You cried out as you began to edge yourself to the edge of the counter to get closer to him not wanting him to leave your core alone. He smirked against your pussy, lifting one leg over his shoulder and pushing himself closer to you. The intensity began to build as he added a finger into you, humming out about how tight you were around his finger. Your head began to race with thoughts of someone walking in on you, it was a public bathroom, after all, anybody could walk into the room and catch you together like this but that only seemed to bring you closer to your edge.

"Don't stop!" You moaned out, threading your fingers into his hair as you rolled your head back again bucking your hips to get closer to Yoongi.

"Cum for me princess," He said as he added a second finger into you, his tongue lapping up all your juices as you began breathing heavy and moaning out his name. Yoongi smirked against your core, proud that you were being this loud despite being in such an open area,

"Cum on my tongue baby," He urged as he pulled you into him, gripping onto your ass as he sucked on your clit harshly. The sounds of your moans and wetness filled the air until you exploded. Throwing your head back against the glass so hard Yoongi was worried you would hurt yourself but he didn't stop eating you out once. Smirking as you mewled out his name, beads of sweat dripping down your head as you filled the room with desperate moans and whines.

Yoongi stepped away from you as he stood up straight, wiping the corners of his mouth as he smirked at you.

"W-Where are you going?" You panted as he walked towards the exit of the bathroom,

"My hotel room, come on dove. You're coming too." He chuckled darkly as an excited expression took over your face. Your eyes lighting up as you got down from the counter and felt your juices run down your thighs.

"I'll let Taehyung and Joonie know I took you and not to come to my room tonight," He linked his hands with yours and began leading you out of the bathroom ignoring the dirty looks you were getting from women outside of the door. All of them had been waiting for you to finish so they could head inside, embarrassment began to take over your body as you realised they'd all heard what was happening in there but that didn't stop you feeling needy for Yoongi and his cock. You simply began to walk faster, pulling Yoongi in the direction of the exit as you could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second.

As soon as you were in Yoongi's hotel room he ripped the silk fabric away from your body exposing yourself to him. He smirked as you didn't hide your body from him, only kissing him and attempting to get him out of his clothes as fast as he'd gotten you out of yours.

"So hungry for me today," He praised as he began kissing down your neck, biting down on your skin as he pushed you back onto the mattress in the hotel room. You bounced a little as you stared up at him, watching as he slowly began to unbutton every button on the white shirt before exposing his body to you. Biting down on your lip you reached out to run your finger along his skin, smiling in awe as he let out a small hiss at the contact. It was nice to know that he had missed you almost as much as you had missed him.

"Need you," You mewled out as you ran your hand down to your core, rubbing your clit as you stared at him. Your fingers never able to do come close to what he felt like on you but you knew how much he hated to see you touch yourself. He swatted your hand away. Replacing your fingers with his own as he took in a sharp intake of breath,

"So wet for me again, such a good girl." You moved further back on the bed so he could kneel down on the mattress in front of you. He ran the tip of his cock over your folds and moaned out at how wet you were for him as he continued to coat his cock in your juices.

"Ready?" He questioned as he looked down into your eyes, aligning his cock at your entrance pushing his hips forward as soon as you nodded. You cried out in pain mixed with ecstasy, it had been so long since you had him inside of you. Your hands reached out desperately to the sheets as you clutched them in your hands, moaning out his name as you closed your eyes tightly.

"So fucking tight," He groaned as he slowly pulled out of you only to roughly push back into you the next second, the feeling of having his cock inside of you sent your mind racing.

Once you were adjusted to him he began to move vigorously in and out of you, moaning out whenever your walls would grip him tightly as if he was made to be inside of you.

"Missed you so much," You whimpered out as you brought him down into a kiss. His hips beginning to move in cyclical motions as he fucked into you. Each of his thrusts making you cry out louder than the other as they built up your orgasm.

"I missed you too baby, tell me...How does it feel?" You whined out as you tried to form words but it was as if you were losing the ability to speak thanks to the pleasure he was giving to you.

"G-Good," Was all you could manage to process as your mind clouded with desperation to cum around him once again. Your head was empty with nothing but the thought of cumming and him filling you up as he continued to fuck into you.

"Cute, you lost all the ability to speak properly." He scoffed as he continued to ram into your cunt, getting rougher with each thrust making you scream out in pleasure.

"I want you to cum all over my cock princess," He whispered in your ear as he pounded into you, grunting and groaning into your ear as he did so. His balls slapping against your ass as you let out loud cries of pleasure moaning out his name as he continued to fuck into you.

"Cum." He barked in your ear and as if under voice control by him and him alone you came around him. Digging your nails into his back as Yoongi fucked you through your orgasm making it last longer as he used his thumb to rub your clit. Your hips began to buck uncontrollably as you came down from your high, letting out a loud cry as you felt him fill you up. Hot cum dripping out of you as he pulled out and sank down onto the bed beside you, you let out a protesting whine as he left you but he cuddled up beside you. Kissing your sweaty skin as he told you how much he loved you.

"I promise that next time I'm busy, I won't leave you behind," You smiled tiredly as you let out a small hum of approval, closing your eyes as you grew more tired.

"Rest," He whispered as he pulled the covers over you both, kissing your skin as he softly whispered to you, helping you drift off in the night.

Groaning as you heard the door loudly being knocked on you sat up and pushed Yoongi out of the bed who in turn switched on the lights so you had to wake up with him.

"It's 4 am," You moaned as you watched Yoongi pull on a dressing down and open the door, standing there was Taehyung and Namjoon still in their suits from earlier in the night.

"Everything is taken care of. The rat is on its way home to Seoul where he'll be delivered to a funereal home." Yoongi nodded in approval of what Namjoon was saying before slamming the door in their faces to show he was annoyed at them for waking him up.

"Hey, they did your work for you." You told him as he crawled back into the bed, grumbling about how he was tired and just wanted to sleep beside his girl for the night instead of being interrupted.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @sw33tnight @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual

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