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freakie-deakie · 3 years

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Lucas // How To: Kill an Idea

i have been really struggling with feeling numb lately and i super projected that onto this character. i really do apologize if it doesn’t make for the most interesting read. i may or may not end up rewriting this when i’m feeling better.

Warnings: emotional numbness and detachment

Masterlist

THIS IS PART 2!!! Read part one here: How To: Hurt My Feelings

Lucas x Reader (angst // 7.3k words); ft. stepbrother!Johnny

The way the lights reflected off the water brought only distant memories of the Han flowing through the city of Seoul and mirroring the life around it. The bustle of the city, the calm of the river banks. The things that you neighbored so long ago.

You could become so lost in the remnants of the past - that you would forget to lose yourself in the readiness of the moment.

You owed the Garonne. After tirelessly looking over you for months on end, you owed her your presence at the very least. How dare you look at her in all of her beauty and only think of another.

She smiled at you nonetheless. The Garonne sat with you one last night and told you how much she would miss you - how much all of Bordeaux would miss you. She told you that the stone buildings, the ones in the alleyway that you cut through every night as you return to your dorm, didn't know what they were going to do without you. She told you that the little birds that had nested outside of your window had practiced a sadder song to sing after you left. She swore that the lights in the city shone brighter than they ever had before when you landed and that they would fade upon your departure.

She made you promise that you would come back to see all of them: the buildings, the birds, and the lights. On your own accord, you promised you would come back to see her.

The Garonne waved you off that night, sending you to bed and wishing you a restful slumber and a safe flight in the morning.

Tired and stiff, you limp out of the terminal with your laptop clutched to your chest and a yawn escaping your lips. You mindlessly followed the crowd of other travelers to baggage claim and patiently waited for your suitcase to be sorted onto the conveyor belt.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle," a familiar voice reached your ears, "I believe a poor boy has been waiting far too long to see you here."

You spun on your heel, a bright smile suddenly overtaking your features. "Lucas," you call quietly as you envelop him in a tight hug. You had barely moved for sixteen hours straight, but once in his arms, every desire for motion ceased. It seemed that he agreed, as he latched onto you and refused to let go.

"I missed you," he admitted before placing a kiss on the top of your head and moving to grab your bag off the belt.

"I missed you more," you answered softly.

He took your hand and kissed it before leading you through the airport and down to the parking garage where your brother was waiting, leaned up against his car, and dusting the cigarette ashes off of his sleeve.

"Hey there, Miss France," he says as he moves to envelop you in a hug of his own. "How was your flight?"

"It was fine," you answer simply. "Long, but fine."

"Well, you have an hour-long car trip to give us the highlights of France, if you're not too tired. We could stop by a late-night diner too if you're hungry."

You nodded along as you climbed into the car, enjoying the banter after your long trip. But as you rode in the passenger seat home (funny, you thought, that you still called it home), you took in things about the city that you never really appreciated.

The locals that ignored the do-not-cross signs, the billboards that were so shrouded in smog that you could barely read them, the stray cats that freely wandered the city like it was their own personal playground. All the things that you used to neighbor.

And when you got to the bridge that you'd longed to see since you left, the Han welcomed you home with as much love for you as it had six months ago. You made it a point to tell him about the Garonne sometime. You think he would enjoy hearing about her.

"The pastries," you say simply. "It was France; of course the pastries were the best."

Johnny dropped you back at your apartment and your boyfriend opted to stay the night, helping you settle back into the space that you could once again call your own.

Another tenant had contracted your apartment for the time you were away - there were a few more cuts and bruises than you remember leaving, but it was nothing you couldn't patch up. The bed wasn't where you had it, the shower knobs had been replaced, and an empty curtain rod rest stretched along your window seal.

"The stuff you left with us, it's still back at the frat," he chuckles awkwardly.

"That's okay." You offer him a small smile and plop down on one of the only four pieces of stand-alone furniture left in the space, the old black sofa in the same spot it's always been. "At least they didn't take my couch."

"Y/N, darling, I don't know if I would lay on that if I were you."

His words took a moment to register, but when they did your eyes shot open and you were out of your seat comically fast. "Oh God, ew..."

He laughed again and pressed a small kiss to your temple. "Let's take a shower and then we'll figure things out, okay? And you know, you don't have to sleep here tonight. There are no sheets on the bed or anything, so you can-"

You cut him off with a quick kiss and lead him to the bathroom, ready for a warm shower to take away all of your travel pains.

"Not really," you answered honestly, rolling your head to the side to look at your boyfriend. You'd been looking at his ceiling for a while, head resting on his thigh while he played with your hair. It felt nice, you thought, to get a chance to live in your memories - specifically the memories you had left with him here in his room, the ones that always waited for you while you were away. "All of my days in France were spent doing something or another. By myself, with the people that I met. So no, it never really got mundane. I didn't think that kind of life existed for anyone over the age of nine." You let out a small but heavy breath. "I guess I had to experience it for myself to understand."

Lucas doesn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he focuses on gently detangling a knot that his fingers had caught on. Your hair was longer now than it was.

"I'm happy for you," he reassures you. He doesn't quite know what he's reassuring, but he reassures you nonetheless.

"Lucas?" you ask softly.

"Hmm?" he responds, his gruff voice sounding tired.

"What would you have done if I didn't come back?" His finger stop working in your mess of locks and all of his attention is focused on dissecting what you just asked him.

"I don't know what answer you want me to give you," he says smally, glancing down at you before retraining his gaze on the ceiling, its texture nearly lost in the dark.

"There isn't a certain answer I want. I'm just curious."

"I don't understand the question," he almost interrupts, suddenly a bit tenser than he was only moments ago.

"I don't mean anything by it, Lucas. It's not a loaded question." Your soft voice is enough to lul his hand back to its comforting motions. "Would you have gone after me or would you have let me go?"

"I would have gone after you without a second thought. Definitely, I would have."

"I thought about staying you know."

There's a pause, a small silence of thought on both ends.

"Why didn't you," he asks with genuine curiosity.

"It wasn't home. You weren't there."

A wolf whistle follows you into the kitchen the next morning and you feel the need to suppress your groan.

"If I knew you were staying the night, I would have held a cup against the door."

"Oh, gross, Jaehyun," you sneer, turning to jab your elbow into the older boy's side.

"What? Not everyone gets to tour France." You can't help but dramatically roll your eyes and threaten him with a punch.

"Do you want a cup of coffee? I was about to put on a pot."

"Sure," he smiles gratefully. "And you can tell me about Bordeaux while we wait."

"Oh, it was beautiful," you think back as you prepare the grounds. "As the sun was setting, the sky would turn golden. If there were any clouds that evening, they would turn all different shades of pink. The lights over the water - words wouldn't do it justice."

Jaehyun chuckles before yawning out, "Well, that's a first."

"Jung Jaehyun, if you are trying to say that I talk too much-"

"That's not what I'm saying," he defends. "I mean you always have a way with words. It's your thing, ya' know. Words."

You hum, turning back to your task. "I guess I hadn't thought about it that way - at least not for a while."

The door to the kitchen swings open and another boy ungracefully stumbles into the kitchen. Haechan is clad in a plain T-shirt and dark shorts (if you could call them that). His hair is no longer silver; it's now a dusty brown, curling up into the picture of a sandstorm blowing about his head. He looked healthier, or maybe just more mature since you last saw him. He'd filled out a bit, and grown into those long limbs of his.

"Man, what's will all the commotion in here? It's Saturday and- Y/N?" The boy immediately perks up upon seeing you. "Oh my gosh, Y/N! You're back!" He hugs you and sits down at the island beside his older friend, suddenly as energetic as a child on Christmas morning. "Great, because I made a list of pranks we're gonna pull together. Jaehyun, since you're here, I guess you can help us too. Okay, first of all, we're gonna shove a bag of chocolate powder mix down the shower drain. I'd like to make sure that one gets Mark because he blamed me for breaking Johnny's lamp."

There were things you would have to readjust to in Korea. Things that you didn't think would catch you off guard, yet still managed to turn you around every now and again. The wet bath was one of them; you were going to miss your tub. You also suddenly found bowing a bit more strange than you originally had, as well as keeping personal space when you greeted someone altogether. Most prominently, the language barrier that you weren't so sure you'd ever really overcome in your first life in Korea.

Words were suddenly weird to you again. Ideas that could manifest themselves in one language but not another. At times, there were no proper parallels, nor were there ways in which to express everything going on inside your head.

Though you tried your hardest, what little French you learned simply wouldn't translate properly to English, or the English wouldn't translate to Korean, or the Korean to French, or the French to Korean, or the Korean to the English. The words just never came out the way you wanted them to, and in a way, it was like a piece of you fell away from the rest, lost somewhere between all of your different lives.

Lucas noticed how much quieter you seemed since you'd returned.

You made it a point to generally avoid contact with everyone while you were away. You occasionally checked in with them to let them know that you were alive, but other than that had kept your space. You became more dedicated to learning about yourself and how to care for your well-being. You began making decisions of your own, from what you would eat every night and how early you would wake up every morning to what debacles were worth your time and energy. You decided that most of them weren't. You decided that pondering your life was taking years off of it, and that you didn't like to eat snails. You decided that you weren't so bad after all, and for that matter, no one else was either. You decided to live.

"Hey, can I see something on your Instagram real quick?" you asked softly, setting your bowl of fancy ramen on the coffee table in front of you. "I think one of my friends just had a baby and I wanted to see if she's posted any pictures yet."

Without giving it much thought, Lucas hands you his phone and turns back to his meal. "What happened to your Instagram?" he questioned.

"Deleted it," you quip, pulling up your friend's account. He hears you coo before you shove the device back into his hands, urging him to look at the baby. He thought the child, redfaced and wet, looked like an alien, though he'd never tell you that.

"Why'd you delete it?" he pursues.

You simply shrug and cover more of your legs with the blanket that rested on the both of you. "Didn't need it." He gives you an unsatisfied groan, but you can't think of a better answer. It was simple - while you took plenty of photos to document your life, you no longer found it necessary to post them.

"Okay," he tries, "what about your Kakao Story?"

"Deleted."

"So you no longer use Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Skype, Instagram, or Kakao Story? What if someone needs to contact you?"

"I still have Kakao and Discord."

"Okay, what about my posts? Or your other friends'?"

"If they have something to tell me, they will," you sip your hot tea and lean into his side.

"It’s like she doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't want to talk to anyone," groans Lucas as he sprawls out on Mark's bed. "She doesn't talk nearly as much as she used to."

Mark's hand didn't stop relaying notes to his journal as he talked with Lucas, translating as many of his lyrical ideas onto paper as he could keep up with.

"She's not the same person she used to be, Lucas."

Lucas had trouble making sense of it, why Mark sounded so sure about that. It almost hurt his pride that one of his roommates was telling him something about you, his girlfriend.

"Who is?" Lucas rubs his eyes. "We've all grown up since then."

Mark's hand halts. "Since then?"

"Since-" he sighs. "Ya' know, since... Since we..."

"Don't hurt yourself," Mark chuckles. "Maybe," he offers, "this chapter of your life is written in a different style. Did you even notice? That your life hasn't been going the same since she got back?"

"Of course it's not the same," the elder defends. "It's infinitely better."

"Spare me. Look, I'm just saying, the less she talks, the more dialog you're putting in your own book. And I think it's better this way. I mean, I can't tell you how to write your life, but I can honestly say I think you're doing better now than you were before. You started using your words instead of acting on impulse. That's not easy, man. Words are hard."

Words: your staple, your foundation, your life. They were your nothing anymore.

And Lucas didn't know how to understand.

He tried not to take it personally, but soon you fell into almost complete silence both with him and his friends. When you joined them for a Smash Bros competition, you didn't exclaim your victories nor mourn your defeats. When you dressed, you didn't ask for his opinions on the color of your lipstick nor the type of heel you should wear. When you laid in bed with him and watched his fan turn above your heads, you refused to humor his desire to hear your voice. And he took the fault upon himself.

He felt guilty asking anything of you anymore because you never opened your mouth to ask for favors in return.

"Y/N, will you come cuddle with me?" he calls with as much endearment as he can shove into his tone.

This was for your own good, he reminded himself.

You hadn't watched the news in months, and he knew that. You, ever the stickler for meaningful conversation, had devoted large portions of your time to staying up to date before. As of late, however, you preferred "to watch the world crash and burn around you from a first-person point-of-view rather than a third-person point-of-view."

He hoped that sitting you down to watch the news for a while would spark a fire in your opinionated soul. So imagine his reaction when you crawled into his arms and fell asleep, paying absolutely no mind to the colors or words on the screen.

His next plan was to plant your favorite novel in the hands of your favorite philosopher.

This was for your own good, he reminded himself.

He shoved the book into Doyoung's hands with a stern "fix her." Needless to say, Doyoung had the book read within a couple of days and Lucas invited you over as soon as his friend flipped through the pages for the final time.

"A piece of modern art," he suggests. "A sorrow lost to the sands of time and a meaning forgotten by society."

Lucas watches in amazement as you sit and nod along to everything that Doyoung says. You didn't interject your ideas even once. You just listened.

He was running out of ideas. So his last plot was his last hope that there may be a bit of yourself left inside of you. He would take you on a date - the best date you've ever been on - and thrust so much happiness and gratefulness onto you that you wouldn't be able to contain it so silently. He knew it was a dirty trick, but how else was he to make sure that you were okay if you would no longer tell him anything about yourself.

This was for your own good, he reminded himself.

Really, he should have asked you out first, before he came barging into your apartment (tidier than he'd ever seen it before and reeking of cleaner) with a bundle of flowers and demanding your attention for the evening.

Surprise.

He was about to push open the door to your bedroom when he heard a soft sniffle from inside. His eyes widened and his shoulders fell. His heart broke when he heard a small sob fall from your lips.

He peeked inside. It was dark, mind the laptop that sat on your desk and illuminating your shaking form. You laid your head on one arm and used your other hand to rake through your stringy hair. Your glasses had been tossed to the shadowy void and your cheeks were wet and sticky.

The header of your philosophy paper stared you down as you unraveled before it. The rest of the blank page was absolutely daunting. Your acceptance of the world around you had drained away your ability to have a coherent cognitive thought about it, forget about writing one.

To some extent, you missed the days when you were confident in your ability to build empires out of words. Now, you couldn't even build a ten-page paper, especially not by 11:59 pm that night.

To a greater extreme, you couldn't understand why you would want to return to your opinionated ways or your charismatic skills that abused fact until it bent to your will. What purpose did fact or, more importantly, idea have anymore, other than to aid your ability to charm others to abide by your purpose?

It felt wrong to write a definitive philosophical thesis, especially when you couldn't bring yourself to definitively believe in anything particular.

"Y/N," you jumped at the sound of your own name and quickly wiped your cheeks with the back of your sleeves, sitting up straighter and making yourself more presentable before you turned around to face him. Lucas saw it all. He watched you put your mask back on right before his eyes, and he realized that you were hurting in ways that he couldn't see until now.

"Lucas," you cursed your shaky voice. "What's up? Why are you here?"

He takes a few quiet steps until he's standing before you and kneels to look into your eyes. There are things that he wants to say, 'you're scaring me' being the most prominent, but he knows he should choose his words more carefully.

"I want to know what's going on. I want to help." He slips his hands into your own and rests them on your knees.

"I just don't think you can," you answer simply.

"Can you tell me what's the matter?"

You shake your head and the tears come rushing back to your eyes. "I don't know what's the matter." It's honest. You don't know why your head can't wrap around your assignments, or your conversations, or your own thoughts as of late.

All that time spent with yourself taught you how to understand yourself and your own needs. You feel that you have exchanged your understanding of the world around you for a simpler version of life. Did that make you selfish? You didn't know.

All Lucas could do was watch you as you fell back into your frustrations. It didn't take long before your brows were knitted back together, your nose was running, and your eyes had glazed over as you retreated back inside of yourself.

"Y/N," he softly called. Your eyes only met his for a second before they were cast somewhere else and your attention ran away from you once again.

"I think," you started, unsure of every word that slipped past your lips. "I think you should go."

You didn't know how to explain to him that you were afraid of what he might think of you at that moment, or that you didn't want to hurt his feelings any more than you guessed you already had.

"I don't want to go. I'm tired of leaving you alone." He stood, gently pulling you to stand with him, and led you to the edge of your bed with a delicate touch. "You don't have to sleep. You don't have to talk. Just lay here with me for a little while and let me be close to you."

"You know," Lucas started as he tossed the noodles in the pan. He'd tucked you into the couch earlier that evening and told you to forget the paper you'd been stressing over. You happily complied. "I don't know how to say this any better." You listened keenly as you pulled a throw pillow into your lap and wrapped yourself around it. "I know that this is probably the last thing you want to talk about, but I did something very wrong to you. I'm still sorry, and I hope you know that. But..." He cast you a quick glance over his shoulder before reaching for the seasoning in your pantry. "I don't think I ever gave you the chance to yell at me. Or like, to be mad at me - ya' know?"

You thought for a moment, front teeth chewing on your thumbnail before you shook your head softly and answered, "I don't want to yell at you. I don't want to be mad at you."

You heard a repressed sound of discouragement before looking to see him dishing your dinner plates. "I wish you would. I wish you would yell at me and tell me what I did was wrong. I wish you would be angry with me for a little while. I wish you would just tell me something about how you feel about it."

He handed you your plate and watched as you ran back inside of your own head. He watched your eyes glaze over as you replayed his words, and yet you made sense of almost none of them. You didn't understand what he was asking of you.

You toyed with your food as you tried to process his request. You didn't even notice when he took his seat beside you, nor did you notice the burning gaze he watched you with.

"Y/N," he called, shaking you out of your trance. "I want you to yell at me." You looked at him like a deer caught in headlights - big black eyes staring down a deadly light. "How did you feel when it happened? Shout something horrific at me about what was going through your head at the time."

You took a small bite and swallowed, training your eyes on the coffee table before you. "I don't remember."

You looked so small, so helpless, and so distant. You were there, right next to him, and yet you were so far away. He was having trouble finding you.

"Yell. Break something. For fuck's sake, please."

The more pressure he applied, the further you seemed to slip away. Before he knew it, you were gone.

"That's not her anymore." He found himself on Mark's bed once again, tucked into the younger boy's covers and pouring out his heart. "She's not all there. She just looks so empty now."

"Dude, I don't know why you come to me for this sort of thing. It's not like I'm just great with girls," the younger quips from his desk chair. "And Johnny would know more about her than I would-"

"No. He absolutely cannot know that I broke his sister."

Mark hummed in thought for a moment before he laid his pen down in his textbook and turned his full body to his friend. "Lucas, be honest with me about something." Lucas nodded. "Did you see anyone else while she was in France?"

Lucas shook his head as he took in his friend's words carefully. He had no right to be mad at the accusation, so he kept his temper in check until a particularly vile thought trotted across his mind. He sat up immediately. "Oh God, do you think that she did? Do you think she considered it a break and she slept with someone else?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying- hey- Lucas, stop." Lucas was already to his feet and out the door before he could finish. "So not my fault," he grumbled to himself.

Finally, it all made sense to him. You couldn't be mad at him if you were also guilty. You couldn't yell at him for committing a sin you'd also committed. He was going to redress the scale. He was going to make you the word again. He was going to be the action.

The solid thuds against your wooden door made you jump up from your floor. Adrenaline spread through your fingertips and you took a step back towards your bedroom.

"We need to talk."

Lucas sounded angry. You pushed and pulled with your memory, but found no trace of experiencing this feeling before: fear of him. You moved against your gut to let him in. You barely opened the door before he pushed his way inside, rattling off accusation after accusation.

"Did you think we were on a break? Because we weren't on a break."

You just listened.

"Did you just forget about me while you were there? Did you just ignore the fact that I was waiting for you? I was stuck here, waiting for you every day while you were in France."

You didn't speak.

"So you just got to do whatever you wanted while I had to sulk here? You just couldn't control yourself, huh? Do you know how hard it was to keep control of myself while you were gone?"

'It was hard?' you thought.

"How about we take another break then? How about this time, I get to sleep with whoever I want? Well? Aren't you even going to open your mouth to defend yourself?"

You didn't.

"Am I wrong?" He prompted. "I didn't think so. Now we're on a break. Now you can fuck around with whoever you want."

Shocked couldn't begin to describe the state he left you in. You stood there, clambering for answers as to what could have sent him on a warpath to your apartment in the first place. His seemingly unprompted fit of jealous rage couldn't really have been sparked without a cause, you figured.

Maybe he'd seen pictures of you with your male friends in France. Maybe a rumor had been spread about you. Maybe he was just tired of you and feeding himself a rotten narrative as an excuse to break up with you.

You didn't want to know. You opted to rather accept his decision, and all of your own emotions that came flooding back with it.

"Hey man, have you talked to Y/N lately? She took one of my classes last year, and I wanted to see if I could get her notes before semester tests." Haechan asks his elder who lay sprawled on the couch.

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p.'

"What?" Haechan asked, looking up from his phone. "What do you mean you haven't talked to her?"

Lucas lazily yawned and reached for his soda can beside him. "It's not like she's my girlfriend or something. I'm not her keeper."

"Shit, Lucas, you didn't," Mark groaned, rubbing his temple.

"No, you were right. She was sleeping with other guys while she was in France. She didn't even try to deny it."

"Hang on, I never said that. You conjured that one up all on your own, buddy."

Haechan frowned as his frat members debated. He was focused on a much bigger issue at large.

"When did you break up with her?" he asks cautiously.

"Hey, we're just on a break. Don't go getting any ideas-"

"Jesus fuck, can your ego get any bigger?" Lucas crossed his arms and refocused his attention on the television, jaw clenched tightly. "You're so annoying," Haechan mumbled under his breath, already moving towards the door and shooting your brother a message telling him to meet in front of your apartment.

"Damn, you got called annoying by Haechan. How does that feel?"

"Can it, Lee."

You could feel it all, the swarm of emotions swirling and twirling around inside your chest, and yet you couldn't begin to name any of them. All you knew was that it hurt and you wanted it to stop.

You laid in your bed and watched your ceiling fondly. You liked how it didn't move. You didn't struggle to keep up with it. And it was dependable; it would always be there.

You didn't move when the knock at your front door finally registered in your ears; you were tired of playing doorman in your own residence.

You were just tired actually.

"Y/N," Johnny called, lightly pushing open the door to your bedroom. A strong sense of deja vu winded you. You knew this scene, you'd lived it before. "It's me and Haechan. I'm sorry we didn't call first." You didn't know how they managed to get inside, nor did you care. You just wanted to sleep.

Johnny took a seat next to you on the side of your bed. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes in an attempt to capture your attention. That's when the smell hit you. The heavy stench of cigarettes washed over all of your senses causing you to retract from his touch. He looked shaken at first, scared that he might have hurt you.

"You didn’t smoke before," you recalled. It was almost a feat in and of itself to remember the bitter past, but the small victory was stifled by the thick, wet air of the bitter present.

His eyes softened before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack he'd bought just a few days before. "I started a few months ago while you were away. I knew you wouldn't be happy about it."

"I don't care," you answered promptly before slowly pulling yourself to sit up against your headboard.

Haechan watched from the doorway. He wondered if he'd ever seen someone in this state before, or if he ever would again. He looked at you and almost failed to see the human being in front of him. He watched you move like a frightened animal, stiff and weary. He watched your untrained gaze flicker between your brother and your brother's outstretched hand.

This couldn't have just been the work of Lucas, he concluded. There were more deeply rooted implications here. There was an unresolved issue before your idiot boyfriend played to his own role.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't know," you answered honestly.

Johnny looked to Haechan for support, but the younger could offer only his presence in this situation.

"That's okay," your brother soothed. "Haechan," he turned to your mutual friend, "can you call Ten and Yuta and see if they've, uh, noticed anything weird lately about..." He gestured to you. Haechan excused himself to place the calls. "Food? Food always helps, right?" he tried with a dry chuckle. You paid absolutely no mind to him.

"I can't take this," Ten muttered to himself, excusing himself from your bedroom. Five boys had soon found themselves huddled in your doorway, watching your every move intently as you resisted every attempt your brother made to move you.

You felt like a lab rat, being looked at from all angles as Johnny poked and prodded to see what would make you tick. It felt humiliating.

"Let's just go for a drive," he tried again, gently pulling your arms away from your chest and trying to guide you out of bed.

"No," you answered again, pulling yourself away from him and settling further back into your bed.

"Maybe we should just let her be for tonight," Jaehyun suggested, moving to stand beside your brother whose head was fallen in defeat.

"I can't just leave her like this, Jae. I still don't understand what's going on."

"Just give her some space," Jaehyun tried again. "This clearly isn't very effective."

Johnny sighed but ended up in compliance as everyone except for Jungwoo moved to your living room. They quietly deliberated as Jungwoo read allowed one of your favorite novels from the end of your bed, hoping against all hope that it would in some way bring you back from the void in which your mind seemed to currently reside.

"Honestly, we had planned to just come and cheer her up," Haechan had said. "We didn't know we'd find her like this. But I can't say it really surprised me, she's been off for months now."

"I thought something seemed weird. She hasn't said much to me in a while."

"Me either."

"Yeah, same."

Everyone generally agreed with Ten's statement.

"Do you guys think something happened in France?" Jaehyun suggests.

"Or maybe things haven't been going so well between her and Lucas for a while?" Yuta offers.

"Everything just feels like it's spinning," you said, cutting off Jungwoo's reading of Mary Shelley's finest work. He was just happy to have heard you say anything at all. "Everything is going so fast around me. I just wanna take a nap, sleep for a while." As you relayed your simple disposition, you found yourself moving to lay on your side, plenty warm but unwilling to relinquish your comforter. "I don't feel like I belong here, so I'm going to sleep instead."

Jungwoo set the book to the side and laid himself down at the end of your bed. "I don't feel like I belong here sometimes either," he relates.

"But you do," you say, looking over his features and seeing every sharp and jagged curve for the first time.

"You do too," he promises.

Hours of hushed worries bled into the night, and you awoke alone in your apartment in the morning. You had no initial intention of getting out of bed. It was the hardcover copy of Frankenstein standing upright on your bedside table that stirred your aching joints into motion.

Then you remembered.

How could you ever even forget?

The Han River smiled when you arrived, taking a seat on his bank. He asked you why you'd been such an unfamiliar face as of late, to which you had no reply. He thanked you for coming to visit him nonetheless and told you about how much Seoul had missed you while you were away. He told you about the alley cats and how they missed the treats you would occasionally leave for them on your way to classes. He told you about how much the sky cried about you spending spring away. He told you that the city lights drowned out the stars while you were gone, but let them peak back into the city when you returned.

You had no beating heart to pour out into his water, so instead, you gave him your soul. The Han understood and sat with you until you bore no more faults on which to complain. He told you he missed you. You told him that you missed him too. You told him about the Garonne and how much you thought he would like her. Then he sent you off into the afternoon bustle of the city with a watchful eye.

You wondered the streets for a while. Not a penny in your pocket, and still you found so many little joys in all the cracks and crevices of Seoul. You pet the stray cats; they'd always been particularly fond of you. You walked around an antique shop making wild guesses about the past lives of every item in sight. You climbed a tree in the park without a damn to spare the onlookers. By sunset, your feet had taken you back to your campus and directly to the front door of your apartment.

"How about some tea?" you ask yourself as you push the door open, not half expecting to be ambushed by a group of concerned young men demanding to know where you were.

"Would you all like some tea too?"

It was still a struggle to hear your voice most of the time, but visible relief settled over those who'd seen you cowering from your brother in your bedroom only days prior. They all continued to check in on you frequently, as they still had difficulties coaxing you away from your apartment.

"Lucas," Johnny had finally caught him lurking in the kitchen around midnight. He was beginning to grow irritable with how troublesome he had become to locate.

Lucas froze, cup ramen clasped in one hand with chopsticks in the other. Busted like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Look, I'm sorry about your sister," he started without really knowing where he was going. "I know that I kinda jumped the gun-"

"I don't want to fight with you again," the elder said. He had kept his calm since the situation had arisen. The last time you and your boyfriend had a falling out, all hell broke loose in their dorms. He had landed a good solid punch on the more-than-deserving idiot and held the belief that he probably deserved a few more. However, he'd rather not have everyone in a frenzy once more, turning against one another. "I just need you to tell me what was going on before you left."

Lucas's shoulders slump and he sets his late-night meal on the countertop. "I was just so frustrated. She always let me into her head before - but when she came back, she just stopped talking to me. She shut me out," he relayed. "I tried everything I could think of. I tried to make her really happy, I tried to make her really mad. She wouldn't talk to me."

"She won't talk to me either," Johnny said, resting a reassuring hand on Lucas's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he responds, taking some measure of the blame upon himself. He felt that maybe if he'd had more patience with you, he could have helped you to get better. Now you were detaching yourself from not only him but your other friends and family as well. "Do you think she would want to see me?"

Your brother shrugged but a small smirk played on his lips. "I dunno. Maybe you should go find out tomorrow."

Needless to say, Lucas felt displaced and burdened by heavy guilt as he stood in your doorway, looking down on your fragile body. The last time he came knocking on your door in the most awful hours of the morning, he begged and cried on his knees for you not to leave him. He felt himself resist the urge to fall to the ground and repeat his mantra of pleas.

You didn't ask him why he was there so early in the morning, nor did you ask him if he wanted to come in. Your stare made his skin feel cold. He cleared his throat to dispel some of the awkward tension that he felt clawing at his airways.

"Can I come in?" Without a word, you moved to the side. "Thank you. Were you asleep?"

"No," you say simply, trailing behind him as he steps into your kitchen.

He lets out a low chuckle as he glances around the room. It looked so surprisingly unhomely and clean. Not a single dish in the sink, nor a potted plant out of place. "I keep messing up pretty badly, don't I?"

He hated the empty way you looked at him. It was as if you didn't know him. It was as if you had just let a complete stranger into your apartment.

"I don't understand, and I'm really trying to. I know that you know that things have changed since you got back. I don't know what that means yet, but I do know that I still love you. And that I'm stupid. I know that too."

You hummed along, a thoughtful expression overtaking your blank features.

"And I know that I’m sorry. I let a stupid idea get into my head and I let it hurt my own feelings. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Please don't leave me."

You didn't offer an answer, instead opening your arms and inviting him back into your embrace. He placed a small kiss on your lips, something he felt like he hadn't done in ages, and wrapped himself around you in an effort to keep you by his side forever.

"Are you happy here in Seoul?" your boyfriend asked, picking at the grass in front of his crossed legs. He looked at you as you looked down at the water. "I mean, I know you don't want to go back to (country), and I have a feeling that you don't exactly want to go live with my family in China. But like, would you rather be in Bordeaux? Or would you rather stay here?"

"I don't know." He hummed and waited for you to elaborate, but you made no real effort to.

"I know that we're still young and we don't have to make any decisions about where we want to live yet," he cooed, looking up to watch the sun set behind the large city towers, "but would you stay here in Seoul with me for a little while?"

You nodded, reaching over to take his hand in your own before pulling him to lay in the grass with you.

"You know, you're not the same person that you were before you left. I've realized that," he said with a sad smile as he looked over at you and placed a small kiss on your chin, pulling a small giggle from your lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I can't wait to get to know you again."

76 notes · View notes

threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

05 | Over the Moon

→ previous | next

→ summary: You feel isolated in the vast American country with no one but your older brother and your six rowdy friends to keep you company. But when they disappear without a trace, you're left with nothing. Nothing until you become dragged into the world of the mob. The mafia world promises glory, fame and big bucks. But that comes with backstabbing, pain, regret and vengeance behind the veils. You're not ready for that alone. Are you?

→ genre: 85% angst, 15% fluff | mafia!au

→ warnings: profanity, intense description of torture, blood, mentions of death by torture

→ wordcount: 8.7k

Your days as a Crescent are a delightful routine. Every day is different from the last, yes, but the events are almost all the same: breakfast, lunch, dinner, sales with Yoongi and Hoseok, talk with Yoongi, sleep. The sense of repetitiveness, the touch of routine is what makes your life the best it's been since six years ago.

You almost don't have time to even mourn, anymore. Jimin would've wanted you to move on.

Besides, you're really finding yourself integrating into this family. Every one of their faces, from Kim Seokjin to Jeon Jungkook is welcoming—you're familiar with the new quirks they had picked up with maturity and you like it. You like the new them.

You've come to acknowledge that Kim Seokjin is a reasonable, level-headed boss who looks out for everyone in the Crescents. He's kind, astute and more observant than he looks. The same goes for Namjoon. You can't think of anyone else who would do his job as the underboss, Seokjin's advisor, better than he does. Yoongi and Hoseok are dauntless dealers. Both are quick-witted and scary when they need to be. While they share a quality of pragmatics, they use it in different ways that balance each other out. Though Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook are often stuck with the so-called 'dirty-work' of the household, they rarely throw away their duties. You've come to admire their diligence.

You finally think you fit in with this family once more. Adult life is starting to become enjoyable.

You've been on the phone with your parents a few times too, reassuring them that yes, you got a job (minus the part you were in a lucrative underground business) and yes, you paid your rent and no, you can't get Jimin on the phone because you don't know where he is. It's only half true. Where do you go when you're dead?

Every time Jimin comes into your mind (though less often these days), you try not to become miserable; instead, your defense mechanism is to read his diary, which you're half-way through, by the way. His writing keeps you grounded when you miss him. You do everything you can to imagine him sitting at his desk with his diary splayed out in front of him as he pours out his mind onto the pages. It calms you down—makes you feel like you knew your brother.

You haven't really been paying attention to the dates until today, however. And you had no need to because Jimin wrote in his diary almost every day or every other day at most. Yet, the last entry you read before this had been nearly six months later (since you were going in reverse chronological order).

You frown as you examine the pages of the diary. Why the long break from diary writing?

Situating yourself on your bed so that you're comfy, you tug the diary closer to yourself, preparing to read it. The moonlight shines in from the open window as the crescent moon watches you read:

How much easier will this get? I don’t want to think about it. And I wonder... is there a special place for murderers in hell? The more I think about it, the more depressed I become.

What I was tonight... Whatever I was, wasn’t me, right? I think I was a monster today, but when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll be normal. I’ll be Park Jimin. But a Jimin who had used his own hands to take another’s life. God. I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself.

But I couldn’t help it. This is my job as a hitman. Jungkook and Taehyung were shaken up about it too, but Taehyung doesn’t want to talk about it and Jungkook’s too shocked to say anything. I’m too cowardly to mention it, so I can only write about it here.

I’m not scared of blood. But watching it seep through someone else’s body... knowing that I caused it to happen... Fuck. I think I might be going insane, writing this. My hands are shaking and my limbs are completely numb. I feel detached from my heart and soul and my mind is heavy in my head.

Oh, god, I cherish the glimmer in my eyes—and I can attest that everyone has their own special sparkle. But I took it away from someone today. I watched the sparkle abandon his eyes, leaving two dull, glassy, dead eyeballs. How am I going to live with myself after this? How can JK, Tae and I all live through this?

And you know what’s sadder? You know what’s fucking sadder? I’m more worried about what I have done than who I have killed.

I’ve become a monster.

Jimin's handwriting deteriorates further down the entry and the pages are wrinkled from teardrops and sweat. You can almost feel the pain he had gone through writing this. Yet you are stunned to silence as well. Slowly, you close the diary, tucking it under your mattress and laying on your bed with your hands folded on your stomach. You stare at your ceiling again.

Maybe Jimin stared at the same spot when he slept in this room.

God. You turn over to your side, sliding your knees up to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

It's one thing to imagine or assume your brother has murdered... but to see him confess it in his own writing...

What's worse is the fact that he never mentioned murdering in the entries after, which meant he became completely immune to it. You're in stupid denial once more. Just when you thought you weren't going to cry over your dead brother anymore...

You don't know how long you've been drowning in your own thoughts when someone knocks on your door. The sound scares you and you sit upon your bed, quickly checking the time. When had it gotten so late? It's 10 pm, already? Who would want to talk to me so late?

"Yeah?" you call. "Who is it?"

"I-It's Yoongi... I just, uh, wanted to talk."

No, Yoongi. I'm not in the mood. I can't—

"You can come in," you say, your own voice betraying your thoughts.

Yoongi's shy as he steps into your room, his hands folded neatly in front of him as he eyes you sitting on your bed. "Hey, I just..." he starts, walking towards you before sitting down on the edge of your bed. "I just wanted to apologize, Y/N."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. "Apologize?" Damn, the moment you hear his voice, you're able to forget about everything else.

"I, well... I'm not very um, good with humans as you may know," Yoongi confesses, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "I mean, I don't know how to talk to them... I never... Well, to be quite honest, I've never felt this," he motions between you and himself, "with someone before and I wanted to apologize, erm, because I don't know if I'm handling this um, normally... I don't know," he groans, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't even know what I'm saying right now. I just thought you deserved an explanation. I sure as hell don't know what to do when I like someone. Words aren't really my thing, you know? I just don't know what to do with... us."

"Oh, Yoongi..." you sigh, your chest feeling warm and your cheeks blushing. "You don't have to apologize."

"But I do!" he protests, throwing his hands out before looking at you. "We've kissed. Twice! And nothing's official! Is this how these things work??"

"These things," you giggle at his choice of words. "Actually, I'm not sure, either. I'm just as new to this as you are, you know?"

Yoongi smiles. "So I'm not the only one confused?"

"I'm just as confused as you are."

"But you're sure about one thing?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I like you too, you know."

"I don't think you would've kissed me back twice if you didn't," Yoongi chuckles. "So what now?"

"I dunno," you answer truthfully. "But I do appreciate your honesty. I can trust you." Yoongi's somehow able to take your mind off of business. It's funny. He's part of the Crescents, part of the mafia, part of a brutal gang, but when you're with him, you feel normal.

The bed dips as Yoongi slowly makes his way over to you, sitting so he's right in front of you. "Can I spend the night here?" he asks.

You don't think twice before you nod.

It's one in the morning but you're still wide awake. You find that it's impossible to fall asleep when there's so much on your mind, anyway. Sighing, you look up and out of your window, following the moonlight with your eyes. The moonshine illuminates Yoongi's soft features as he sleeps soundly with your head resting on his bare chest.

You feel safe like this, in his arms. Your Crescents marks touching too—Yoongi's on his chest and yours on the back of your neck.

You didn't think that you'd have sex with him tonight, but one thing had led to another... and it had just happened. But you don't regret it, either. Yoongi is a diligent and selfless partner, always chasing after your release more than his. The enjoyable sex took your mind off of everything. Until both of you had come down from your highs, that is.

Now that Yoongi's asleep, your mind can wander back to its bad habits: thinking about your brother. Though you'd forgotten about the diary when Yoongi was taking sweet care of your body, you remember now. That your brother is a murderer. That anybody in this gang could be one. You can't seem to fall asleep.

At that moment, Yoongi groans softly underneath you, making you raise your head to look into his barely open eyes.

"Hey, you still awake?" he asks with his gravelly voice. "Do you need some water?"

"No, no, I'm fine," you say, quietly. His arm moves around to wrap you tighter against him, and you snuggle into his chest. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"You always do," Yoongi chuckles.

You take a moment to contemplate before deciding for it. Maybe talking about it will put you at peace. "Can I ask you something, then?"

"Sure," Yoongi says, rubbing small circles on your arm. "What is it?"

"Have you..." you hesitate, "um, have you ever murdered someone?"

Yoongi frowns. "What?"

"I mean, have you ever killed someone before?" you say.

"That's what's been on your mind?" Yoongi sighs. "Well, would any of this change if I said yes?"

You stay silent for a while before sighing, turning over so you can face Yoongi properly. He sits up on the bed, staring at you with a worried look plastered on his face. It's the first time he's not stoic, outwardly expressing his feelings.

"I... I don't know, Yoongi."

"Y/N," Yoongi groans, raking his fingers across his hair as he breathes in deeply. "Will it make you feel better if I told you no?"

You stare at him blankly.

"I've never handled a weapon other than to sell it," Yoongi clarifies, making you let out a sigh of relief. "But indirectly, I've probably killed many."

Your brows furrow as you ask, "Indirectly?"

Yoongi gives you a sad look, caressing your warm cheek with his delicate fingers. "We sell weapons, Y/N... What do you think they do with them? Let's go to sleep, hm? Talk about it in the morning..."

He snuggles back into the blankets, tapping his chest for you to lay your head. You oblige, laying your head against him as he falls back into sleep. You can feel his even breathing, the small rises and falls of his chest. It should be soothing. But you're more awake than ever.

You've accepted it, really.

You're an indirect murderer, too, anyways. You sell weapons with Yoongi, therefore you are much capable of indirectly causing the demise of another stranger. You shouldn't be thinking too much about it—so you haven't. And as a result, your relationship with Yoongi has soared.

Your relationship with your co-workers has soared, in fact. Hoseok isn't really an asshole once you get to know him better. When you have your nice afternoon chats with him, he strikes you like the most normal businessman ever. Just a little uptight, though.

"I was afraid to sit my ass down on the toilet for a year after that prank," Hoseok snorts, shaking his head disdainfully as you're thrown into a fit of laughter.

"We didn't mean for it to affect you so much!" you wheeze, trying to pick up your teacup without spilling the tea from laughing too hard. "Besides, we thought it was insanely obvious that the snake in the toilet was fake!"

"If you had a penis, you'd be careful too," Hoseok scoffs.

You scrunch your nose, setting the teacup back down on the table. "Okay, let's not get into all about genitals, though."

"Fine. Then what about the time you guys hung a giant spider dangling down on the wall next to my bed?" Hoseok asks, shuddering at the thought. "Who's idea was that? Taehyung, again?"

"Surprisingly, that was my idea," you confess. "Dangling a fake spider to try and scare you is too tame to be Tae's idea!"

Hoseok scoffs again. "I didn't deserve those pranks."

You smile. "I know. You were so patient with us, too. But I'm just putting it out there that I only pranked you with JK and Tae. I'd never do it solo."

"Yes, that makes me feel much better," Hoseok says, rolling his eyes.

You snort. "Hey! You learned sarcasm!"

Hoseok laughs, crossing his legs as he leans back on his sofa. "It took me a while. You guys used to make fun of me for not understanding sarcasm too." He never sounds bitter when he recalls his past, which puts you even more at peace.

"But that was all of us as a group!" you protest. "Jimin used to call you the Sarcasm Man, remember?"

Hoseok hums in remembrance, smiling wistfully. "Of course I do. Remember? He used to always tell me, could you be more serious??"

"Yeah!" you laugh, "And you'd always say—"

"Here are the baked goods for the little tea party!" Taehyung sings, carrying a plate full of warm, homemade cookies. He sets them down on the table in between you and Hoseok, grinning proudly at his masterful baking skills.

"Oh, thanks," you say. "They smell really good!"

Apparently, Hoseok doesn't think so. "What kind are these?" he asks, scrunching his nose.

Taehyung scoffs. "Isn't it obvious? Chocolate chip!"

"Can you bring oatmeal?"

You raise your eyebrows as Taehyung groans. "Only old farts like oatmeal, Hoseok. Act your fucking age for once." But with one look from Hoseok, Taehyung's darting out of the room to bake oatmeal cookies.

"Isn't chocolate chip fine?" you say, picking up the warm treat and biting into it. "Mmm, see? It's great. JK and Tae have been getting really good at baking these days."

Hoseok shrugs. "Taehyung should know I don't like chocolate chip," he grumbles. "He's always getting on my nerves."

You nod silently. There's nothing you can really do about the in-house rivalry except watch it unfold before your eyes and hope you don't become a part of it. It's something that was never a problem before when you were children, too. Yet, you've gotten used to it now.

Hoseok sighs, taking a sip of his bitter tea. "You know how the family is, right? We're always split up in different ways no matter how united we are. Jungkook and Taehyung have always been great friends. Jimin and Namjoon were always close too, along with Seokjin. And I was left with Yoongi. It's better that way. Besides, Yoongi was one of the few who wouldn't drool over you in the past, anyway."

You laugh. "So I've heard."

"Yeah," Hoseok smiles. "Seokjin, Jungkook and Taehyung were all completely into you, though you might've heard from someone else. But I didn't want them coming to me to confess their undying love for you. So I stuck with Yoongi. Until now." He groans dramatically but you smile, seeing right through his act. "Yoongi won't stop fucking talking about you!"

"Really?" you grin. "What does he say?"

"Ugh," Hoseok groans. "Have I become the middleman?"

You giggle, shrugging. "I wouldn't mind if you did."

Hoseok grunts as he sips the last of his tea and throws a disgusted look at the sweet chocolate chip cookies. "That's enough chit chat for today, don't you think Y/N? Let's get ready for that sale today."

"Oh, yeah, right," you say, quickly stuffing a cookie in your mouth before taking two in each hand and standing up. "Mmph—what?" you ask with your mouth full when Hoseok gives you a disgusted look. "Ift's for Yoongmi, I swmear!"

"Sure," Hoseok snorts. "Yoongi hates chocolate chip."

"Oh—" you say, shrugging before swallowing. "More for me, then."

Hoseok rolls his eyes but he smiles. "We'll have to grab the oatmeal cookies later, after the sale. It'll be like an incentive to make us work harder."

You scrunch your eyebrows. "Yeah, but who says I even like oatmeal cookies?"

"Y/N, you would eat anything that has the word 'cookie' in it," Hoseok sighs. "You loved baked goods when you were younger so I just assumed you like baked goods now as well."

"You're not wrong," you say, taking a giant bite out of your cookie. "C'mon let's go find Yoongi for the sale."

You kinda might've totally accidentally forgotten to cover up for the sale today. Your arms and legs are left exposed (which, you don't mind because that's how you beat the hot L.A. weather), but that's also bad news when you're dealing.

You can easily ignore the cat-calls and sexual side comments the men shout in your face. You've come to toughen up these past several weeks. Besides, you know that if any of them lay a finger on you, they'll deal with Yoongi and Hoseok's consequences. Otherwise, you, Yoongi and Hoseok have made a silent pact to ignore the comments completely—actually ignoring them scared them even more, you found. Once a man had vulgarly pointed out how nice your tits would look in the open air; you didn't even flinch as you cocked a pistol next to you. He shut up after that. It's amusing to speak with your actions.

Yet, today, Yoongi is on a different page.

"What did you call her?" he asks, quietly, teeth clenched.

"Oh, you need me to repeat that?" the hitman grins. "I called that girl a whore. Look at her, exposing skin like that. She's asking for us to look."

You're about to point your biggest, scariest, most expensive rifle at him to shut him up when Yoongi speaks again.

"If she didn't say you wanted her to look, then she didn't quite ask for you to look, did she?" Yoongi seethes. "Besides," he grins, "we have men everywhere around the city looking to take out some of you low-level crooks, so you better keep your mouths shut in front of a proper lady. Learn some manners."

The men look terrified. Without another word, they quickly gather their items before dashing out of the room like their lives depended on it, which apparently, it did. The three of you watch them leave with amused looks on your faces.

"Damn, Yoongi. You're really looking out for Y/N," Hoseok laughs. "Well, I'm gonna go get my oatmeal cookies. Join me if you want to." He leaves in an excited rush before you and Yoongi can answer.

"He's always really liked Taehyung's oatmeal cookies, though he fails to admit it each time," Yoongi laughs.

"I want to try some of these famed cookies myself," you say. "But um, I'm honestly confused. I thought, you know, we, the Crescents only consist of the seven of us? Are there more out in the city that I don't know of?"

Yoongi laughs again at your innocent question, putting an arm around your shoulder and guiding you out of the room. "I was bluffing, Y/N. We're a very, very tiny gang. But no one else has to know that." He gives your arm a little squeeze before turning you around to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. "Let's go get those cookies."

You nod, though you feel a bit wary. Damn. Just when you thought you were getting used to the mafia tactics... This place is really testing my moralities.

The whole gang is in the white room again with Jin in the power seat and everyone else in their assigned seats. You're honestly a bit confused about what this meeting will be about but Yoongi assured you that you don't have to worry at all. You take his word for it, but something about that white room always makes you feel so uneasy.

"As you may know," Seokjin announces loudly, everyone quieting down to hear him speak, "the annual gala is being hosted soon."

"Hell yeah!" Taehyung shouts, pumping his fist in the air. "Free booze!"

Jin chuckles at Taehyung's excitement, nodding. "The Crescents will be going as usual."

"Objection!" Yoongi protests, which causes everyone to stare at him in utter shock. The man who's practically famous for having no input in any meeting yelling clearly seizes everyone's attention.

"Yes?" Jin asks. "If you are concerned about Y/N's safety, you do not have to be. We'll arrange something special for her."

"You surely can't let her go," Yoongi sighs, leaning back in his chair. "It's dangerous and you know that."

"That is true, Boss," Namjoon says as he turns to you. "It's an open party for all citizens... But there's a murder or two there every year since all of the gangs in the city go to pay their respects. We must be vigilant."

Hoseok chuckles. "You know, they keep coming up with creative ways to kill. Last year the unlucky victim drowned in his own sparkling champagne. I wonder what they're planning this year..."

You frown. Maybe Yoongi's right. Maybe you shouldn't go...

"Aw, but it's fun," Jungkook says. "Y/N will have fun!"

Yoongi snorts. "If your definition of fun is getting sexually harassed and objectified by the male gaze then sure, Y/N will have a lot of fun, Jeon Jungkook. I'd like to keep my girlfriend out of it if you please."

"Your girlfriend happens to be a Crescent," Hoseok sighs. "Yoongi, she's more than capable of going. It's just a single party."

"If she doesn't go, we all don't go," Seokjin says. "We don't leave Crescents behind."

"And we're definitely not going to skip the gala," Hoseok snorts. "That's where our alliances are formed!"

"It's also where our enemies are made," Namjoon points out. "We strap guns, grenades and knives under our tuxes and gowns."

"We'll be careful, then," Seokjin says. "Not that we're ever not careful..."

Hoseok throws a dirty look at Taehyung who raises his hands in protest.

"So I'm going?" you ask.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Yoongi says. "It's your call."

"Since when is it her call?" Taehyung frowns. "It's really Boss' decision."

"I'll leave it up to Y/N, Taehyung. Don't worry," Seokjin says, smiling. "Yoongi's right. It is your call, Y/N."

"Wait, but that's—there's pressure now," you sigh, slouching in your chair. "I don't want to ruin tradition..."

"It's not as dangerous as Yoongi says," Jungkook offers, staring at you with puppy dog eyes. "Please, Y/N? Tae and I love going there."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, grunting but not saying anything.

"If Yoongi's such a good boyfriend, he'll prove to you that he can protect you," Taehyung snorts. "Besides, it's an extravagant gala! And Boss has already bought you a dress!"

"Wait, what?" you and Yoongi say at the same time.

"You bought me a dress?"

"You bought her a dress?" Yoongi gawks.

Seokjin smiles warmly at you. "Yes, I did. The gala's in a few days, so after my day job, I went to get a dress and called Taehyung over for a second opinion. He said something about how you look good in midnight blue."

"Yeah," you laugh. "I wore that color for all of the high school dances. Taehyung remembered?"

"We all did, frankly," Hoseok snorts. "You wouldn't shut up about your dresses in high school, remember?"

"I was excited!" you defend yourself. "And, I mean, if I already have a dress... I might as well go, right? I'm sure nothing too bad will happen."

"JK's a cop, Y/N. If Yoongi can't save your ass, he will," Taehyung jokes. "Think of it as a social gathering with a double meaning! Free food and alcohol included! But don't mess with anyone because they might spear your head to the wall."

You laugh nervously, unsure whether you should take that as a joke or not. "In that case, I think I'll be fine."

For an hour now, Jungkook and Taehyung have been fussing over you as they helped you get ready for the big gala. They'd tried to help you with your makeup, but Taehyung failed your winged eyeliner eight times so you banned him from touching your face again. Meanwhile, Jungkook accidentally knocked over your eyeshadow palette, reducing the assortments of colors into unusable powders. Looked like you were going without eyeshadow tonight. You had to threaten them with the hair curler at one point too because Taehyung wouldn't stop burning your ear to curl your hair.

Now, you were hiding out in your bathroom with the door locked, taking your sweet time to put on your dress.

"Did you put it on yet?" Taehyung calls for the billionth time.

Your groan, throwing your head back in annoyance as you try to shove the dress on your body. "I'm never gonna come out if you ask me that one more time!"

Taehyung shuts up after that.

You zip yourself up with no problem, admiring the way the dress is perfectly your size. When you turn to face yourself in the mirror, you can barely recognize yourself.

I look beautiful.

The dress hugs every curve of your body, the feather-like chiffon fanning out from your cinched waist. You like the human embodiment of the nighttime sky: soft, delicate but mysteriously dark. You feel like you're being taken to high school prom all over again, the familiar giddy feeling rising up your throat. Except—your date is not Taehyung. He is Yoongi. And this isn't a high school prom. There's a one in five hundred chance that you might be murdered tonight, but all of the Crescents promised you'd make it out alive. You know that if everyone—except Taehyung—makes a promise, they keep it. You feel much better about your safety.

When you walk out of the bathroom to twirl for your friends, you find that literally everyone is already in your room, waiting for you. They're dressed to the nines. If you combined the total costs of their well-ironed, stiff suits and their jewelry, the sum could have probably paid for your whole college tuition. They look rich, in other words.

"You took so long, JK and I had time to change into our tuxes," Taehyung laughs. "But damn, you look hot. You're welcome."

"Thanks," you mutter, sheepishly. "Jin, you really outdid yourself with this dress. Thank you."

Seokjin smiles. "No need to thank me. It had your name written all over it so I had to buy it. It fits you very nicely."

"You look beautiful, Y/N. And I got a matching tie. Do you like it?" Yoongi asks, grinning at you wildly, unable to take his eyes off of you. You giggle as you admire his all-black suit with a midnight blue tie.

"I love it, Yoongi," you smile. "This is like prom all over again."

"Rated R prom," Hoseok points out. "With the possibility of a brutal murder. Oh yeah, and drinks, sex and drugs. Here," he says, handing out a holster to you. "Just in case."

"Woah, um—" you start.

"And this is the gun you'll be using tonight if you were to get into any trouble," Yoongi says, handing you a pistol. "But you won't get into any trouble because I'll be by your side the whole time." He helps you strap the holster on your thigh, securing it and sliding the gun in. When the dress falls over your legs, it hides the lethal weapon from view.

"Oh, and blow this whistle only in an emergency and all six of us will be running to help you," Jungkook adds, handing you a safety whistle of all things. It was silver, matching all of your jewelry and if you hadn't known it was a whistle, you would've thought it was a beautiful necklace. You mumble a thanks before putting it on.

"Now you're more than prepared," Seokjin says, smiling. "How are you feeling, Y/N?"

You laugh nervously, weighing out the rather heavy gun on your leg before replying, "I honestly feel overprepared. I think I'll be fine."

Hoseok snorts. "Oh, honey, you are not overprepared. You should see some of the stuff I'm hiding up my sleeve right now—literally."

"He's right, Y/N, you can never be too overprepared," Yoongi says, moving in to link your arms together. "Don't let go of me when we get there, okay? They're good at sniffing out new meat. If we get separated, stay still and look like you belong there. Okay?"

You scrunch your nose at his strange directions (how the fuck do you look like you belong somewhere??) but you nod. "Okay."

It takes another hour for Yoongi to explain, in detail, what you should and shouldn't do at the party. The list for the shouldn't do's is way, way longer than the list for the should do's. But you're not complaining—especially when apparently a single slip-up could lead to your own demise. Yet even with all the warnings and precautions, you're not sure what to expect. To you, this seems like a high school prom that had gone through puberty. JK and Tae describe it as the best party ever and only Yoongi seems to be truly worried.

You conclude that yes, the gala is dangerous, but no, it wouldn't affect you too badly. You'd go and have some fun, get out of the house for once. Right?

And with that, the seven of you are off to one of the most dangerous parties in the city in a shiny, black limousine.

Saying that the gala is extravagant would be an understatement. Everything looks like it's been touched by gold from the heavens. The ceiling is so high, it looks like the sky itself and the luxurious marble floors stretch on forever. The majestic chandeliers illuminate the whole room with yellow light. The food towers over the guests and the casino tables are bustling with wealthy people seeking a truce with fortune. Everything about this place is gilded—even the people in it.

You can't help but feel a bit underdressed when some women strut around wearing dresses made from diamonds and aureate shoes. Maybe underdressed isn't the right word. You are intimidated. You hadn't expected to feel this way, but something just seems off. Maybe your expectations for the gala had been too high? Or maybe your gut instinct was trying to tell you something.

Yoongi notices your tense shoulders and squeezes your hand as he looks around the party. "I hate this fucking song," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You didn't even realize music was playing until he mentioned it; you had been too entranced by the visual aspects of your surroundings to notice the soft jazz melodies echoing through the open space.

"Namjoon and I are going to talk with some of our buddies," Seokjin says, "I'll meet all of you later for dinner! And Jungkook and Taehyung," he gives them a stern look, "we are not here to hook up with women."

Taehyung grumbles. "I thought we can. We're just not allowed to bring them home."

"What are we supposed to do then?" Jungkook sighs.

"I'll lend you money to waste at the tables," Hoseok says. "Taehyung, you're good at poker, right?"

"Oh, I'm the fucking best," Taehyung grins. "Let's go!"

The three of them saunter off without missing a beat while Seokjin and Namjoon disappear to talk with their 'friends,' or allies, you suspect. That leaves you and Yoongi alone.

"This place reminds me of a 1920's hedonistic jazz party, minus the flapper girls and plus the sugar babies dripping in gold," you whisper anxiously to Yoongi who chuckles quietly. He must've thought you were joking. But you were making an observation laced with concern.

"So, The Great Gatsby on steroids?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What do you want to do?" Yoongi asks as he snakes an arm around your waist rather protectively.

"What is there to do?" you ask, stiffly. "You choose. I'll just follow."

But there is honestly nothing to do. Earlier, from the long list of things you shouldn't do, eating had been one of them—someone was murdered with cyanide in their caviar, once. You can't even walk around to give yourself a tour because that'd raise suspicion and someone would fling a knife straight at your heart. And most of all, you can definitely not act as if you've never been to the gala. They play with the new meat like they're toys, apparently. And if you don't respond to their demands, they'll kill you without a second thought. No wonder you're so tense. When Yoongi had warned you about these things, the reality of it had flown past your head. But actually experiencing it...

"We can grab a table somewhere," Yoongi says, rubbing warm circles on your back in an attempt to help you relax. "And we'll just talk. How does that sound?"

"Like this is a date?"

"Exactly," Yoongi says as he leads you to an empty table. He pulls out a chair for you and you mumble a thanks before sinking in. It's strangely silent after that. Which is weird because when you and Yoongi are silent, it's usually a peaceful, calming aura. But this kind of silence carries heavy tension and stress in the air.

You begin to fidget with your hands.

"Hey, beautiful," a gruff voice calls to you.

You nearly jump a foot in the air when you see a rather handsome man with a chiseled face looking right at you. He grins and before Yoongi can do anything, he's already kissing the back of your hand like he's some prince from a faraway land and you're the princess he's to marry.

"May I take you away?" he asks politely, staring straight at you and failing to acknowledge Yoongi. Though there's a warm smile on his lips, there's something into his eyes that screams red alert to you. You get a strong gut feeling this man isn't an innocent person wandering around this grand party—he's a man with purpose, possibly a man with weapons hidden under his suit. The gun in your holster begins to burn against your thigh.

"I'm afraid not, Junhe," Yoongi speaks up, his voice clean-cut and cold.

The middle-aged man, Junhe, cocks an eyebrow. "Oh, Yoongi. Didn't see you there," he smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'd say we let the fine lady decide. Would you like to come with me?" he asks you. "Or would you like to stay with his tedious man? I'll make sure I'm anything but stoic," he offers. "I'll give you the reactions you want."

You're already disgusted by the smoothness of his words. He's manipulative in all the wrong ways, you realize, so you politely refuse. "I'd like to stay," you reply, slightly leaning away from the man as he looms over you. "Yoongi brought me here so the least I can do is offer him my company."

Junhe scoffs and mumbles something about you having a bad taste in men before he glares at Yoongi and strides away.

"Sorry, Y/N," Yoongi apologizes. "He's just some guy I know from work."

You frown slightly. Which kind of work was he talking about? His job as an anesthesiologist or as a dealer for the Crescents? But you realize Yoongi had purposely been vague so you let the whole matter go.

You haven't yet released the tension on your shoulders since you first walked into the gala and that encounter with Junhe was not helping. You're awkwardly staring at your hands folded in your lap when Yoongi clears his throat.

"I, uh, I'm not too stoic, am I?"

"What?"

"I'm not too apathetic?" he asks again. "I don't want to be boring."

You shake your head though your body remains rigid. "It's part of you, Yoongi. And I like that about you. You don't dramatize anything."

Yoongi nods thoughtfully but you can tell he's troubled because there's a thin worry line dragging across his forehead. It's too bad both of you suck at small talk.

The silence between the two of you gives you time to drown in your worst fears. You've never quite liked crowds, but a crowd of highly-dangerous, rich folks is far worse than anything else you've ever experienced before. You can't trust anyone. You don't know who has a dagger literally hidden behind their back.

It also makes you realize you might not be safe.

Jimin's murderer could be here.

Chills run down your spine and your blood runs cold when you realize that a cold-hearted killer could be looking for you. Waiting to kill you like he killed your brother. Your eyes shake as you try to look around the room, trying to see if anyone is targeting you. God. Why did you agree to this? Why did anyone agree to this? Did they really think you could be safe?

With so many wealthy people here, it'd be easy to hide any murder with hush money. This is a mafia gala, for heaven's sake—the room is filled with people who have gotten away with murder once, twice or thrice. Maybe even countless times.

Suddenly the skin exposed on your arms feel prickly and cold and the hair tickling the back of your neck is irritable. You're getting a crazy feeling at the pit of your stomach that someone is watching you. Maybe you're being paranoid?

"Hey, you okay, Y/N? You're starting to sweat," Yoongi whispers. He reaches over to grab your hand across the table. "Do you feel sick?"

Your face is starting to feel hot and your head is starting to hurt. The room seems to spin. "I wanna go home," you whisper. "Please, Yoongi."

Yoongi hesitates. "Oh, Y/N—"

But he's interrupted by a series of muffled gunshots coming from near the gambling tables. Your heart drops. "Isn't that where Jungk—"

Yoongi takes you by the arm mid-sentence, dragging you further away from the commotion that was starting to pick up. "We'll get you home early."

"Wait, but—"

"There's nothing we can do, Y/N. I'm sure they're fine. We're just going to wait in the limo," he whispers lowly in your ear as he guides you steadily toward the exit. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest but he seems fine. Unbothered, even.

You squeeze your intertwined hands and you lean closer to Yoongi as he leads you out of the gala safely. He whispers not to look back, to act natural as the two of you make your way over to your parked limo.

The moment both of you get inside the luxury car, Yoongi pulls down the blinds and whips out his phone. He frantically texts someone—you assume it's Seokjin or Namjoon. You hold your breath for news.

After six painstakingly silent minutes, Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. "The rest of them are coming right now. Taehyung told me to not say anything as of now because he wants to tell you the story, himself."

"So they're okay?" you say. "But there was a murder?"

"There were several, today," Yoongi sighs. "But everyone we care for is okay." He reaches out to check your temperature, placing the back of his hand on your forehead as he caresses your cheek with his other hand. "Are you feeling better?"

You nod. "I'm sorry I freaked out. I just hated—"

"We've survived!!!" Taehyung sings as he swings open the door of the limo, nearly causing you to have a heart attack at the suddenness. "I'm here to spill the tea!"

Hoseok rolls his eyes as he steps into the car. "It wasn't really as creative this year," he grumbles. You grimace when you realize he's talking about the murders.

Everyone else fills in the car, all ears on Taehyung to tell the dramatized version of the story.

"So," Taehyung begins, his voice soft and eyes sparkling. "Hoseok, JK and I were minding our goddamn businesses at the gambling table. And I was kinda losing, you know? It's been a while since I played poker. So I had to fold and get the fuck out of there before Hoseok beat my ass for losing his money. And for some reason, I really had to pee, which was the universe's way to tell me I had to check out this awesome murder in the bathroom!"

Jungkook giggles. "I was there too! We walked in and it was just eerily quiet in there, you know?"

"Yeah, usually couples are getting it on in there, if you know what I mean," Taehyung snorts. "So JK and I are like 'oh, ha, that's strange,' but we don't think much of it until we see a pair of legs poking out of an open-doored stall."

"At this point, I'm cursing at these stupid hooligans because I'm holding their spot at the tables and they're taking too damn long to relieve themselves of piss," Hoseok sighs, shaking his head. "Didn't know they were going full-on detective-mode in the bathroom."

"Yeah, well my first reaction is, 'man, if you wanna fucking piss on the toilet at least close the stall door??' But then I realized there's blood on the floor," Taehyung says. "JK and I get closer and man it was INSANE!"

"He had a knife just stuck in his back! It was wedged so deep into him too," Jungkook marvels. "And the best part—"

"His face was in the fucking toilet!" Taehyung exclaims. "Whoever killed him was not playing around. I personally think they drowned him first, but JK thinks they stabbed him and pushed him into the toilet. But that would mean they'd had to have a spectacular aim if you know what I mean."

You squirm in Yoongi's arms, unsure if you wanted to hear the rest of the story. He notices your discomfort and sighs, "Let's not be so vulgar."

Taehyung rolls his eyes. "How can I not be vulgar? It's a fucking murder." But when he sees your scared face, he becomes more serious. "Well, JK and I weren't going to report the murder because we're not going to get involved. And besides, I bet we were probably the tenth people coming across that scene—no one wants to get involved in that gala. So we just left to find Hoseok again."

"And that's when I hear the gunshots," Hoseok says. "It came from the table behind me, too, so I got to see everything." He crosses his legs and arms, scoffing. "Three men fell down. I left before a fight broke out."

"Four murders," Seokjin shakes his head. "That we know of, too. It gets worse every year, doesn't it?" Even though he speaks of bad news, he smiles, stretching out on the expensive leather seats. "But Joon and I got our jobs done. Yoongi, Hoseok, Y/N? We've got some good sales on the way."

"Delightful," Hoseok says.

"I think we'd better get home, now," Jin says, trying to give you a reassuring smile. "Y/N, you'd appreciate a nice, warm, bath, right? I'll try to dig out some of my special bath salts for you. I think you need a good soak."

You nod, though you grip at Yoongi's black silk button-up shirt.

Home has never sounded this welcoming.

Though Yoongi offered to soak with you in the tub, you'd declined, telling him instead you'd meet him in your pajamas in his room. He'd nodded without saying another word, and you silently thank him for knowing when to give you some space.

Seokjin had been right. A hot bath did really help—yet it didn't help clear your head filled to the brim with thoughts. Once you've lathered yourself with lavender lotion and gotten dressed into comfortable clothing, you knock on Yoongi's door.

"Hey," he says, opening it right away. "Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed?"

"Yeah," you nod.

Yoongi guides you over to his bed, helping you into the covers and tucking you in before he climbs in and spoons you from behind. There's a comfortable silence. Then:

"How long did it take you to get used to this?" you ask.

"This?" Yoongi inquires. "You mean life as a..." he pauses, "Crescent?"

You nod.

"Not a while, really," Yoongi says, curling his fingers into your hair. "It... Well, it takes longer for others to adjust. Depends on the person."

"Hmm," you hum softly. "The murders today... Do you think they were correlated?"

"It could be anything," Yoongi answers. "But no, I don't think they were correlated."

"But either way, there were murders because there were enemies at the gala," you sigh, turning around to face Yoongi. "I was just so tense all the time. I think I subconsciously felt the tension between the gangs."

Your boyfriend shrugs. "Maybe, Y/N. But sometimes new recruits have to murder someone—anyone—to be accepted completely into the gang," he sighs. "Think of it as a token to join," he expounds further when he sees your confused expression. "The more tortuous the murder, the better. It's happened every year at the gala."

"But that makes the murder worse," you scoff. "At least if they were enemies, the victim might've seen it coming. But if the victim was chosen randomly—that's just the worst kind of misfortune!"

"I know," Yoongi mumbles. "It's not fair, Y/N. We all know that."

The way he's so nonchalant irritates you. "But, Yoongi! I could've died tonight," you sigh. "You know, the person who murdered Jimin could've been right there, waiting for the right time to kill me!" You shudder just thinking about it. "I didn't realize how unsafe I felt until I was at the gala, Yoongi. I don't know if I was being paranoid but I really felt like I was being watched. I could've been killed..."

Yoongi's silent, refusing to look into your eyes. Finally, he answers with a soft, husky voice. "I wouldn't have let that happen to you."

You scoff, sitting up and tugging yourself out of Yoongi's arms. "Really?" You raise a doubtful eyebrow. "You let it happen to my brother, though." You regret the words that had spilled out of your lips when you see Yoongi's hurt face. An awkward silence follows and neither of you moves.

Finally, Yoongi turns around, facing away from you as he grunts out, "Go to sleep, Y/N."

You don't have it in you to apologize, half angry at Yoongi for not protecting your brother like he swore to protect you and half sorry that you let out your fear and frustration on him. Without another word, you tuck yourself back in the blankets, back facing Yoongi. You stay still, staring into the dark nothingness as you wait until Yoongi's breaths become even. When you know he's asleep for sure, you slip out of his bed.

You can't do this right now.

Yoongi's supposed to be the one who makes you forget about your dead brother. But he's doing everything but.

You need to read Jimin's diary to calm yourself down. The only thing you need right now is to hear your brother's soothing voice echoing in your head as you read the words he had written years back. Quickly, you find refuge in your own room, snuggling up in your own covers before pulling out the leather journal from underneath the mattress.

You open the diary and read it in the faint moonlight.

Today, I woke up because I thought I heard Y/N’s voice calling my name somewhere off in the distance. I imagined that she was calling me a lazy stink bomb and pestering me to wake up so I could keep her company. But when I came to my senses, I realized that Y/N’s probably still sleeping in her apartment and I’m in a mansion miles and miles away from her. Part of me feels guilty for living such a luxurious life without her. But another part knows that what I did is for her own good. I think.

Sometimes I just want to drive back and tell her I’m sorry I left her. That I’m sorry I didn’t give her any explanations. That she has to lie to our parents for me. She must be so mad at me...

I feel like I left my blood-related family for my self-proclaimed brothers. On some days, I wonder if I made the right move. But then again, I can’t imagine a life without my friends and I’ve lived more than half of my life without my parents by my side.

The only person who has to face the consequences is Y/N. I abandoned her to pursue my own dream life. I know it’s selfish of me but for once, I felt like doing something for myself.

I drowned in guilt for the majority of today. Y/N’s most likely called me at least a hundred times on my old phone... I can’t even bring myself to imagine the disappointed look on her face when I don’t pick up. I had to stop myself at least twenty times from dialing her number to call her. God, I’m just getting so homesick. I think I stared at those polaroid pictures for hours on end today.

I miss Y/N.

Maybe one day, when this... all of this dies down, I’ll be able to visit her. I’ll be able to tell her everything I experienced and before she gets mad at me, I’ll tell her my funniest stories! It’d be like I never left. I guess I’ll be waiting for that day to come.

For now, I have my polaroids and drawings for remembrance. I’ll go to bed hearing Y/N scream at me to toss my socks into the laundry basket. And for once, it’d be a welcoming noise.

You can't help the tears dripping down your face when you reluctantly shut the leather-bounded notebook This is the first time Jimin had mentioned you in his diary... which meant that in his future entries, he completely neglected to write about you or just... didn't care as much. It hurts to think, really. That every real feeling Jimin has, he ditches it the more he becomes involved in the mafia.

You fall asleep alone on your bed, but you don't feel lonely. Usually, Yoongi would be by your side to take your mind off of your brother's murder, but today, you need time to think about it.

The last thing you think you hear before you drowse off is the sound of your brother screaming at you that yes, he already did toss his socks into the laundry basket, so no, you didn't have to yell at him. Normally this kind of reply would irritate you even more, but it's a cordial illusion that brings a smile to your face before you're drifting off to dreamland.

—previous | next

—masterpost

—masterlist

#bts #bts fanfiction #ot7 #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #mafia au #over the moon #otm

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army-author · 6 years

Text

a monster crush (and how to survive it), pt. 1

❝ It’s rumoured that a monster lives in the forest behind your house. But you’re far too old to believe in monsters... And yet, since Taehyung believes in them, you’ll keep on following him into the forest, despite the warnings. But as you continue playing games, your imagined monster begins to bleed into reality, with Taehyung pulling you closer to truths you’d rather leave uncovered. Slowly, you’re led to the realisation that love is perhaps the most dangerous monster of all… ❞

➝ pairing: taehyung x feminine reader

➝ word count: 12.0k

➝ genre: angst, horror, fluff, childhood friends au

➝ warnings: mild mentions of blood and injury; mild swearing; mentions of divorced parents. future parts will contain mild horror; gore; mentions of death and killing; implied smut

➝ author’s note: it’s been a while :’) it’s nice to be writing again!

↳ part one | two

[October 2018]

What do you fear most?

You never know how to answer that. Your fears are constantly changing, as you fix on new terrifying possibilities. It’s not a question you like to dwell on for long.

Love is certainly high up on your list of fears - or more specifically, the fear of losing love. That’s because you know how precious love is, how hard you have to fight for it.

But you know how to survive it, the rush and crash of emotion.

If you were to ask your younger self what she feared most, she would have given a much different answer, not yet familiar with love. Maybe she would have said monsters. Because monsters are scary. Like love. Just as intangible and unexplainable. Or maybe she wouldn’t have said monsters. Since monsters don’t really exist. Only the most childish believe in monsters, and you were too grown-up for that. Even at eleven years old.

***

[October 2010]

The forest is claustrophobically close.

That’s the impression you get when you step out of the car, parked in front of your new house. It’s your first time seeing it, and you instantly dislike it, particularly the way the forest branches clamber over the fence into the garden beyond the red brick building you’ll be forced to call home. Maybe the grey clouds of October make it look worse than it really is. Probably not.

“Nice, right?” your father says, as he follows after you, slamming the car door behind him, “Slap bang next to the forest. You’ll have lots of fun exploring in there, won’t you, Cub?”

You shrug in response - a commonplace for you. At the age of eleven you have decided that shrugging in response is better than a simple answer with your dad. He’s known you long enough, he should know what a shrug means.

He should also know that you don’t like the pet name Cub. It’s too childish.

“Wonderful,” he goes on, not noticing - or choosing to ignore - you brooding in front of the car. His voice is dripping forced positivity. He doesn’t want to move either. You know that. Still, he’s trying to make the best of it. You’re refusing to do the same. “Look,” his tone is still insistently chirpy, “There’s even some kids your age here. You’re going to make loads of friends.”

You detach your eyes from the house, and the intrusive forest, glancing in the direction your father is looking. Down the street, a boy about the same age as you is tearing up and down his driveway on a bike he seems to have outgrown. You give a sniff, your eyes lingering on him. His legs bend too much when he pedals, the frame clearly made for shorter limbs. With his knees stuck out like that he looks a bit like a frog. “Cool,” you say dully to your dad, not wanting to seem too invested. You want him to know that you’d rather be back home. Back home you already have friends your age. You don’t need to make any more.

“Why don’t you go say ‘hi’ to him?” your dad asks, as he digs a hand into his pocket, and fishes out his keys to the new house.

Not giving him an answer, instead, you walk down to the edge of the pavement, and balance on the cusp of the curb, kicking at a small stone there, watching it clatter down to the gutter by the road.

A few houses down from you, the boy on his bike has stopped, leaning heavily over the handlebars. He’s watching you intently with dark eyes. His gaze connects with yours, and you dance your eyes away, staring instead at the great, grey sky expanded above you.

“Go on,” your dad calls too-loud from the steps to the house, “He’s not going to bite.”

You wince. The boy might have heard that. Glowering over your shoulder, you watch your dad, as he walks back to the car, and unlocks the boot, to retrieve one of the few boxes you stuffed into the car - to tide you along until the moving van brings the rest of your things. Much quieter than your dad, you hiss, “I know! I just- maybe I don’t want to say ‘hi’, alright?”

“Why not?” your dad straightens up from the boot, two boxes stacked precariously up to his chin, supported by one hand. A line creases his forehead as he furrows his brow. You hate how old he looks when he does that.

“Because,” you say, which is answer enough. Because. Because. Because.

“Okay, I get it,” your dad says, turning his back as he walks to the house, voice moving away, “He’s a gross, yucky boy, right? Cooties and stuff. I get it.”

“No, you don’t!” you call after him, voice raising louder than you’d like. He’s already through the door. Left alone on the tarmac, you only have the trees behind you to keep you company, and the boy in front, his stare burning into you.

You pretend to ignore him, turning your back and walking down the curb, arms outstretched to keep yourself balanced on that long grey line that runs the edge of the road.

You get a few steps forward, before: “Hey!”

Stumbling, surprised, you slip off the curb, stepping forward a few paces to catch yourself again, balance restored.

Turning to the source of the voice, you find the boy on his bike, now just behind you. His legs are stretched out in front of him, allowing his long limbs to balance him on his too-small bike.

“You scared me,” you say, accusing. Your cheeks are red from the embarrassment of a barely prevented fall.

“Sorry,” the boy licks his lips, before breaking into a smile, “It was kind of funny though.”

“Was not!” Your cheeks are burning redder.

“Right. Sorry.” The boy’s smile breaks down, restrained by his teeth, biting down on the soft skin of his bottom lip.

You stand in silence, fingers twirling the hem of your jumper, while the boy keeps staring.

“Could you stop doing that?” you ask.

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

“Oh. Was I?” his eyes dart away, as if he’s suddenly conscious where his gaze has been all this time. His attention turns to the sky instead. “I’m just curious about you is all. You’re moving in there, right?” His head makes a jerky movement to the house, which your dad is exiting again, to grab more boxes from the car. When he sees you talking with the boy, he gives a thumbs up and a big smile. You frown back, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” you turn back to the boy. You stare at his feet, so you don’t have to look at him, or at your dad.

“Cool!” the boy’s voice is distorted by a grin. “I’m Taehyung, by the way.” He sticks out a hand for you.

You look at it suspiciously, but reach over, and give a quick shake, muttering your name as you pull back quickly.

“It’ll be nice to have someone my age so close by,” Taehyung says, “All my friends live a few blocks down.” He makes a vague gesture down the road, where the housing estate branches off into other housing estates. “Now we’ll get to play loads.”

“What makes you think I’ll play with you?” you ask him, looking back up, getting confirmation of the smile you had suspected he was still giving you.

“You don’t want to?” the smile slips off, “I just thought - since we’re neighbours…”

His mouth curved down makes you feel bad. “Well,” you pretend to consider it. “Maybe we can play together. I just thought we should make sure we can get along before we decide we’re friends.”

“We’ll get on just fine,” Taehyung reassures, his smile returning. He really does smile a lot.

“You think?” you squint at him, as the wind picks up around you, stinging your eyes.

“Of course,” Taehyung’s cheeks pink a little, “You seem nice.”

You wonder how you gave him that impression. All you've done so far is bluster off your embarrassment with scowls and suspicion. You make a decision to try to be nicer, like he seems to believe you already are.

“Your house is so close to the forest as well,” Taehyung goes on, steering the conversation to a new topic, “That’s cool.”

“Is it?” You turn to look at the forest, where the branches drape over your fence, stretching spindly fingers towards your lawn. “I don’t like it being so near. The branches take up too much of the garden. And on the other side of the fence it’s so… overgrown. It’s kind of creepy.” A shiver runs through you, as another gust of wind comes along.

“That’s just it,” Taehyung explains. His feet leave the tarmac, kicking up in excitement, his bike wobbling precariously, until he rights himself again, both feet planted firmly on the ground. “There are loads of stories about the forest. It’s really exciting. I guess you haven’t heard about them, since you’re new though.”

You’re intrigued now, but you try to hide it. “Oh. Stories?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung’s eyes glimmer. “There’s a - a something living in there.”

“What kind of something?”

“That’s just it,” Taehyung says, “Nobody knows. People keep on going in there, trying to take photos of whatever it is. But it never shows itself. It just leaves small traces. A footprint. Broken branches in its path. A small animal fallen prey. Some people say it’s just a fox, or a dog gone wild. Other people think it’s some kind of bigfoot, or something like that. But other people think it’s a monster.

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoff, covering up the shake in your voice.

“Maybe,” Taehyung gives a shrug, as he leans closer to you over the handlebars of his bike, “But there’s got to be a reason behind all the things happening in the forest. Personally, I think it’s a monster.”

You raise a sceptical eyebrow.

“Although, of course I don’t really know,” he adds quickly. “But I’d love to go in and see for myself.”

“Why don't you then?” you ask.

“I’m not allowed,” Taehyung’s head sinks lower, chin almost grazing his forearms, dangled across the bike handlebars. “Mum says it’s too dangerous in there.”

“You could probably get in from my back garden,” you blurt, before processing what you’ve said.

“You think?” Taehyung perks up, “Could I? Would you let me?”

You shrug. “Sure. If you wanted. I could go with you.”

At that, Taehyung gets off his bike, letting it clatter onto the pavement, wheels spinning, as he leaps across to hug you, lifting you momentarily off the curb. “Thank you! See, I knew you were nice!”

***

[One Day Later - October 2010]

Taehyung’s in your garden. It’s a play date - at least that’s what your dad calls it. But you hate that, it sounds too childish.

Outside, the air is cool - the sort of cold that only happens in the confusing slip between autumn and winter, when you don’t know how many sweaters to put on to stay warm. The sun is high above, piercing down through an empty sky that saps it of any warmth.

“Your garden’s really cool,” Taehyung says, tramping up and down along the lawn to inspect everything.

You simply watch him, unsure what makes it more exciting than any other garden. Still, Taehyung seems excited by it.

“Look at how close the trees are!” Taehyung makes his way over to the fence, where the tree limbs reach down to clatter against the wooden slats.

“Yeah, too close,” you say, “Dad says he’ll have to get them cut down.”

Taehyung’s face falls. “But I like it how it is now. It’s like the forest is trying to climb into your garden to say ‘hello’.”

A shiver trickles down your back. You don’t like the idea of the forest saying ‘hello’. “Whatever,” you toss your head a little, to throw off the goosebumps, “It doesn’t matter. They’re just trees.”

Taehyung isn’t listening, moving up and down the fence. “I wonder if we can climb into the forest from here,” he mumbles, reaching out to test one of the low hanging branches.

“Careful, Taehyung,” you warn, as he pulls down his weight on the branch.

His hand stretches out, moving further up the rough bark, to a sturdier portion of the branch. From where you stand, he looks like an extension of the tree himself, with his hand twisted around the plant, like he’s a part of the tendrils, holding it together. Without hearing - or heeding - your warning, he pulls back, and his feet leave the lawn. His feet scramble on the fence, his other hand reaching to get a grasp higher up the branch.

His method of climbing doesn’t seem at all safe. A dark pit forms in your gut, but you bite down another warning.

In this clumsy way, he makes his way to the top of the fence and balances there haphazardly. He grins down at you, mouth boxy, “We can make it from here. Come on.”

There’s an uncomfortable jerking in your stomach. Your mind darts back to the monster Taehyung mentioned, and the small animals that have fallen prey in the forest. A thousand reasons not too follow after him burst into your head, clashing like fire bells. The forest looks dark. The spindly trees look dry, and dead, and ready to fall. The air’s just too cold to go exploring today. And besides, it’ll be time for dinner soon, and your dad will be calling you back inside.

“Come on,” Taehyung repeats, stretching out a hand, “I promise it’s not scary.”

“I’m not scared,” you counter, because you're not. In the same way he did, you clamber your way up the fence, ignoring Taehyung’s proffered hand, because you can do it yourself.

From the top point of the fence, perched, wobbling, you can see the forest much better. Your eyes pierce past the dark tangle of trees, baring their brown leaves. The ground is carpeted in shades of autumnal death, throwing up a thick, mouldy smell, that clings in your nostrils. The trees stretch out, thick trunked, with scraggly thin branches, creeping roots leaving tracks through the soil, like it’s been broken up by an earthquake.

The air here feels oddly heavy, and difficult to breathe.

“Let’s go then,” Taehyung grins at you, before his smile whips away from you and he drops down to the ground on the other side of the fence.

The fall is further than he expected. He stumbles at the bottom, crashing to his knees among the decaying leaves.

“Taehyung!” you stifle your shout, not wanting to alert your dad in the house. You scramble down after your friend, using the scratching branches to slow your fall. “Are you alright?”

Taehyung squats up on his hands and knees, and laughs up at your concerned face. From where you’re standing above him, he looks a bit like a dog, on all fours. Bouncing up again, he wipes his dirt crusted hands on the back of his jeans, sending dead leaf debris floating in the air.

You hold your breath, and wait for the air to settle.

“Let’s go!” Taehyung points towards the forest. You notice spots of red on his jeans at the knees, where he fell, but before you can ask him if it’s sore, he crashes forward into the tangled brush of the forest, arms swinging by his side.

You wait behind him, eyeing the point in the forest where the dark branches bleed into blackness. But when Taehyung casts a glance over his shoulder to check if you’re following, you only smile back, pushing off your uncertainty as you follow after him.

“I can’t believe we actually got in,” Taehyung says to you, bouncing along on his toes as he walks, pushing his way through the tangle of scrub that blocks your path. It’s clear no human has walked this way in years. “What if,” his eyes shine as he glances back to you, “We actually figure out what’s been killing things in here?”

“Isn’t it obvious it’s just some kind of animal?” you ask, “Like - I don’t know - a fox, or something?”

“Well, that’s just it,” Taehyung says, continuing down his created track, pushing through the clumped branches with his whole body, “Occasionally people find carcasses on the outskirts of the forest. But the weird thing about them is how neat the killing is. If it was another animal, it would probably just eat most of it. But these animals have been found bleeding out from a small slit.”

A cold slithers around your ribs, into your heart. You feel cheated. Taking Taehyung into the forest in search of a fox, or some other small animal seemed fine. But something about the image of forest animals, bleeding from neat cuts, leaves a bad taste in your mouth. “You didn’t tell me about that part.”

“Oh.” Taehyung seems nonchalant, “I didn’t think it was that important.”

The imagined monster that Taehyung has told you about suddenly seems so much more real. You can picture it, standing over it’s prey, a small rabbit, a neat line of blood spilling from its cleaved throat. The monster is a black shape to you, hunched unnaturally. It’s eyes glow red, it’s pointed teeth drip crimson. It seems too real now.

Something brushes against your back. Yelping, you leap forward into Taehyung’s back. A glance behind you confirms the branch that hit you, springing back and forth.

“Sorry,” you pull back from Taehyung again, “Only a twig.”

Taehyung turns to you, and closes the distance again, stepping towards you. His brown eyes are concerned as he searches his face. “Are you... actually scared?”

You shake your head quickly, hair sticking to your wet lips as you do so.

“We can turn back if you want.” Taehyung says, his voice hollowly low.

Firmly, you reply, “No. I’m fine.” A smile has you believing it too.

“Alright then,” Taehyung seems satisfied, turning to the path ahead. Reaching behind him, his hand stretches out, his slender fingers dragging the air behind him. They search around, and you realise he’s offering them to you, so you stretch out, your pinkie brushing his. The warmth of his fingerprint against your own sends a shock through you. Feeling you there, he grabs and holds on tight. The tips of his ears are pink in the cold. Hand in hand, he leads you on. You follow behind, arm stretched out to his own, your feet falling into his footprints in the dead leaves.

As you walk, you occasionally check behind you, making sure you can still see the reassuring shape of your fence, and the house beyond it, through the twisted trees. Pressure is increasing as you step on, pressing against your lungs and ears. It’s the same feeling you get when a storm is brewing, with electricity crackling in purple clouds. But the sky is eerily clear above you. The only sound is your own footsteps, and the occasional crack of twigs as you push through the trees that grow too close together. This empty air feels unnatural. You look around, searching for something else living - birds in the trees, squirrels nestled in the nooks of branches. Nothing. You and Taehyung seem to be the only breathing beings here.

Except... that doesn’t feel true. There’s something else breathing here. The whole forest seems to breathe, blowing out the heavy smell of it’s own decay. The stench is growing stronger as you and Taehyung venture deeper.

You press closer to him, bending you arm in an awkward position, so you can still keep his fingers in your own. He’s looking around, neck twisting, eyes eager. He’s monster hunting - that’s what he says.

When you look about, you’re only searching for animals, birds, or squirrels, or maybe a hedgehog. That’s what you say.

Since monsters don’t really exist.

Your attuned ears pick up a rustle behind you. Your heart stops for one throat-tightening moment.

“Taehyung?” your voice comes out strained. You don’t recognise it.

He steps on and your hand slips from his own. He pulls his warmth away from you.

There’s a pressing mass behind you, you sense it, like the tightening pressure on your own chest. It’s the same crushing feeling that comes from contained thunder and lightning. You turn to look behind, slowly, slowly.

Behind you - nothing.

Just the empty forest. The trees stretch back indefinitely. You’ve lost sight of your house in the tangled undergrowth.

Your breath rushes back, lungs dragging in the still air.

“Taehyung? Did you hear something just now?”

There’s no answer. You’re suddenly aware of how silent it is. Your breath is the only sound in the unshifting air.

Turning back, you find he’s gone.

“Taehyung?” You spin, scanning around. “Taehyung!” Your voice echoes emptily off the trees. Nothing. Your heart throws itself to your throat, thrashing painfully there.

Behind you, there’s another rustling sound. Close this time. Your brain stumbles over itself, imagining all it could be. A wild dog. A bear. A crazed serial killer -

- a monster?

It’s moving closer, crackling through the dead foliage. The twigs snap like broken bones.

You close your eyes. Perhaps this is how you die. Stupidly following after the boy with the too-small bike, and the too-wide smile. All because he let you hold his hand.

Past the black of your closed eyelids, you sense more black. It’s pressing closer. You breath it in.

And beyond that, comes a low, gravelly voice, put-on. “What’s a little girl like you doing in my forest? Don’t you know better than to wander into a monster’s lair?”

Suddenly, an arm is wrapping around your throat, and pulling you in for a tight hug, and Taehyung’s low, gravelly voice breaks into the tone you know, giggling into your ear. “Did I scare you?”

“You brat!” You poke him with your elbow, shoving him off.

“I did, didn’t I? I did scare you!” He’s triumphant.

You fold your arms across your chest, hoping it will slow your racing heartbeat. “Did not!”

“Did too!

He dances around you, kicking up dead leaves as he sing songs, “I got you. I got you. The big bad monster got you. Now I’ve got you, I’ll eat you, ‘cos that’s what monster’s do. I’ll roast you and toast you and throw you in a stew!”

“If you’re going to tease me,” you huff, “Then I’ll just go home. This isn’t fun anyway.” Turning, you swing back on your heel, and push your way back through the forest, following the path you beat away on your way here.

“Aw no, don’t leave!” Taehyung’s whine follows you.

You ignore him, moving on, until you feel a hand around your arm, fingers warm through your jumper.

Pulling against him, you try to keep moving, but Taehyung’s persistent. His arms tangle around you, pulling you closer. You fall back into his chest with a thud, his arms holding you steady against him. His voice is breathy. “Sorry, really. It was a joke!”

“I didn’t come here just to have you make fun of me.” You try to shrug him off, hoping your anger will translate into your limbs as you throw him off. He stumbles off you, backing a few paces to catch his balance.

You swivel back on him. Your lips are raised in a snarl that’s bordering on tears. You don’t know where they came from. “I don’t like this, Taehyung. You dragged me out here, but I didn’t want it. I want to go home!” Your voice is louder than you meant.

Taehyung cowers against the heat you spill; you’re half-scared, half-furious that he would push you being scared at all.

“Please don’t be angry…” his voice is small, “It’s just a game…” Softly, feet rustling the leaves, he slinks away from you, moving around. He’s circling you, making you twist your neck to keep your wild eyes locked on him. “It’s just a game. A rhyme we sing. Everyone at school knows it.” He picks it up again, humming softly. “I got you. I got you. The big bad monster got you.”

You shake your head, eyes watering with the cold. “I don’t care if it’s just a game. I don’t like it.” The pooled water clumps at your eyelashes and spills over. You don’t understand these tears - you were angry a moment ago. “I don’t like it…”

Taehyung stops circling, eyes trained to your cheeks, wet and red with embarrassment. You wipe at them with the sleeve of your shirt.

“I’m really sorry,” Taehyung’s face is defeated, the smile that seems permanently painted there slipping off. His stupid song seems to continue bouncing off the onlooking tree trunks. “I thought we were both having fun,” he goes on quietly, “Look, it’s okay. Let’s just go home now.” He reaches out a hand, but you instinctively pull back from him, still fuming beyond your wetted lashes. His fingers trail empty air where you were.

“No.” You want him to go. You don’t want him to see your anger, or your tears. Girls your age don’t cry like this. In the dark brown of the dead leaves, you crouch down, knees pulled up to your chest. With your arms wrapped around your thighs, you can bury your running nose in your sleeve, and shut out Taehyung with your closed eyes.

Beyond the dark of your eyelids he sounds distant. “Can I make it better?”

You shake your head, face rubbing on the fabric of your jumper.

Silence trembles through the air. For a hushed breath, you think maybe Taehyung has gone away - left you alone in the dark trees. But when you pry yourself from your jumper sleeves, face sticky from tears and from snot - from the cold - you see his shoes on the leaves in front of you. You refuse to look up any further. Giving a sniff that won’t rectify any of the dried damage on your face, you croak out, “Go away.”

You don’t know if you want him to obey or ignore you.

His shoes hesitate for a moment, shifting from left to right, stirring leaves. You hear an intake of breath, as if he’s going to say something. But nothing comes. Instead, his feet are turning, and he’s walking away from you.

You watch as he follows the path, back the way you came, leaving you among the dirt and dead leaf smell. He’s really going.

Seeing his retreating form is enough to push up your anger again. He’s doing exactly what you asked, and you hate it.

“Wait!” You jump to your feet, leaving flaring in the air around you as you race after him, “Don’t leave me!”

Your desperate hand catches his sleeve, and he looks back with a grin. “See, I knew you didn’t actually want to stay here by yourself!”

Blushing, you let go of him again. “Well, of course I knew you weren’t mean enough to leave. Even though you are a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk?” Taehyung pulls you back to himself, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you walk back down the trail you've broken through the tangled branches, following your own lingering destruction of fractured twigs.

“The worst kind of jerk,” you say, not fighting Taehyung’s arm off of you, legs feeling slightly weak, and in need of the support he provides. “You’re-” You sift through your mind for the worst word you know. “You’re an asshole.”

This makes Taehyung laugh - a deep, throaty sound. “My mum tells me not to say things like that.”

His laughter continues on, hiccuping out, shattering the chill of the air. The sound sets off a warm glow in your stomach, so you say it again: “Asshole.” The laughter you win for this satisfies you with burning cheeks and tingling fingertips. You’ve completely forgotten you’re angry with him as you laugh along. The fence is ahead of you, promising safety, and the uneasy emptiness of the forest is forgotten.

The rustling in the branches is only the wind.

Taehyung gives you a leg up over the fence, grunting that you’re heavier than expected. Fighting back a retort, instead, you give him a hand up to join him at the top. Perched, balancing on the wooden slats, you take one last look into the forest. The air is still, no breeze to stir your hair. The weather’s always so changeable in autumn. Maybe the wind comes and goes in gusts.

You drop down to the green grass in your garden, and Taehyung hums as he climbs after you: “I got you. I got you. The big bad monster got you. Now I’ve got you, I’ll eat you, ‘cos that’s what monster’s do. I’ll roast you and toast you and throw you in a stew!”

***

[One Week Later - October 2010]

Before you’re ready for it, school creeps up on you, and you find yourself being forcibly dragged out of bed at seven in the morning, with your dad telling you to get dressed.

You were given a few days of getting settled into your house before starting in your new school, and you’d taken the time helping your dad out where you could - holding his hammer and screwdrivers while he reassembled all your Ikea furniture. But now those few free days are passed, and the awful reality of primary school is kicking you in the shins.

As your dad drives you to school, you watch the edges of the forest flash by the window in a wash of black tree-trunks and brown leaves, complaining, “But Dad - term’s already started and everyone will already know each other. I don’t want to.”

“I know, Cub,” you dad is distracted as he indicates and turns down one of the many junctions that twist through your small town. For a place not even big enough for its own cinema or leisure centre, it certainly prides itself on its complicated streets, corkscrewing in and out of housing developments in a maze of red brick. “People transferring school is totally normal,” your dad continues, now on a straight bit of road, so he can give you his attention, “You won’t be the first one in your school to go through this. And the teachers will be very understanding of you missing work.” You were entering into school almost a month and a half into term. Your dad had tried to move in the summer, so that it wouldn't disrupt your school work, but your old house had taken so long to sell, that you’d had to leave off until mid-autumn.

Thinking back to your old town just makes you sad. It pokes at memories of old friends, and your old school, and your old house, free from creepy forests in the back garden. Your old house makes you think of your mum as well, back when she lived with you and your dad, and smiled at you when you showed her your school work.

But that smile had left her, back when she argued with your dad every evening after they thought you were asleep and couldn’t hear them. You’d lie, eyes wide open, in bed, and hear her high-pitched voice float upstairs.

After a year of that, your mum had given up. Instead of trying to fix what was happening with your dad, she broke it more. A few months after the divorce was filed, your mum was gone. And a few more months after that, your dad accepted a promotion, and announced you were moving. He didn’t need to tell you that he wanted to get away from the memories. You tried to accept it, and go along with whatever he wanted, even though every instinct dug in its heels. It’s not fair. You want to keep your friends. You want to stay in your old school. And you want to keep the memories of your mum.

Still, you’ll swallow down this bitter newness as best you can - new town, new school, new friends. Even if it occasionally comes up to choke you into complaining. You never can keep your feelings bottled. So you give a toss of your head, to get your hair off your face, and look out the window as another red brick house rolls past the window. “I just don’t want to go to school. Couldn’t you get me to skip a year, since I’ve already missed so much this term?”

Your dad chuckles, “Nice try, Cub. You know that’s not possible.”

It was worth a shot.

There’s a break in the red brick houses outside, spilling into the green metal bars of a fence running round a gravel football pitch, and beyond that, your new school, in the town’s favourite red-brick brown. Your stomach slips down to your feet as your dad pulls into the drive, and searches for a parking space.

Then you find yourself walking behind him, heading for the reception office, tugging down on the scratchy sleeves of your jumper. This school’s uniform is definitely more ugly than your old school’s. Your gaze fixes on your black shoes and dark blue tights as you wait in the office, your dad talking to the receptionist.

She’s directing her attention to you, you realise, and stick a smile on your face, pretending to listen as she explains what class you’ll be in, where you’ll find it, what topics you’ll be learning about, and a list of more information you’ll forget in a few minutes.

Your dad smiles, giving a thumbs up, and then you’re watching his face behind you, as you leave the office, the door swinging closed on him.

Walking through the school corridors, you’re shocked by how eerily similar it looks to your old school. Maybe there’s a secret rule that all schools have to be built the same.

The receptionist is going on about new refurbishments the school has gone through, but you aren’t paying attention, still trying to pick your stomach up from your feet, and force it back into it’s usual spot. The corridor feels suddenly larger, the walls higher, the floor stretching further. Your breath hitches in your chest as the receptionist stops outside a classroom, and says: “Right. This is you.”

She knocks on the door, and there’s a sharp, “Come in!”

You swallow the saliva stuck in your mouth as the receptionist announces you to the teacher. Stepping into the classroom, your feet move mechanically, leaving you floating without your body outside the door.

“We have a new pupil joining us today,” your teacher, Mrs. Lee you think her name is, says. She sounds far away. You dig your nails into the palm of your hand as she turns her glasses to you, “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

You turn to the class, sucking in a breath, and there, sitting at one of the back tables is Taehyung. He grins and waves.

Releasing the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, you smile back, and give your name easily, as if you’re only talking to him. Before you know it, you’ve gone through all the necessary introductions and explanations, and your teacher is asking you to take a seat. Taehyung points wildly to the chair across from him, where two desks have been pushed together to make a table of four. The other two students at the table smile politely as you sit down, and Taehyung announces, “This is my friend. We live close to each other.” His eyes are smiling at you, as he leans across the table and whispers, “We’ve also been out exploring the forest together.”

This get you an appreciative look from the other students. You get the sense you’ve even accepted, as the boy beside you leans over and says, “I’m Park Jimin. And you can borrow my felt tip pens whenever you want.”

You’re going to be okay.

***

When the bell rings for break time, Taehyung tackles you in a hug. He’s been bouncing in his seat since you sat down opposite him, and kept on trying to talk while Mrs. Lee shushed him. Now that the rest of the class is spilling out into the playground, he can talk as loud as he likes:

“Hey!”

“Hi,” you reply, quieter than him. Your voice is more appropriate indoors.

“I haven’t seen you since last week,” he says, as you try your best to walk to the classroom door, with him strung around your shoulder, “I thought a monster really did get you.”

You give a small shrug, slightly restricted by his arms.

His voice is smaller, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to my friend after what happened.”

“That’s not it,” you say quickly. You don’t want to lose him now. Not when he’s the only person you know at this school. “I’ve just been busy,” you go on, “You know, settling into the new house and stuff.”

“I see. That’s good,” Taehyung nods his head in time with your steps, “I thought I really had upset you.”

“Only as much as I would expect from an asshole like you,” you joke.

There’s a disapproving ‘humph’ behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Mrs. Lee behind you, with her cup of coffee. You clap a guilty hand to your mouth, fighting back a startled laugh.

Taehyung’s arm around your shoulder tightens as he drags you away quickly, pulling you down the corridor and out the doors into the harsh autumn sunlight. You both crash into laughter as the doors swing shut on your teacher.

Crouching over, to recover from a particularly violent bout of giggles, you groan, “Oh no, she hates me already…”

“Mrs. Lee hates everyone,” Taehyung grins, giving you a wink.

You smile back, excited to be talking with him again. And also surprised to find yourself feeling that way. But before you can say any more, Jimin is running up, and dragging Taehyung away, pulling on his arm. “Tae, we’re going to play tag! Come play too!”

You bite down on your bottom lip, as your one hope of friendship in this school is pulled away. Your arms hang useless by your side, feet dragging. You suddenly feel very awkward and conscious of all your limbs, and what they’re doing.

Taehyung pulls back, and turns to you again, “She can play too, right?”

Jimin’s eyes finally fall on your, low-lidded lashes giving a sweeping examination. “Yeah, sure.” He wrinkles his cold-nipped nose, turned pink, “You’d better explain the rules.”

“I know how to play tag,” you inform the boys, as Taehyung links his arm around yours, pulling you towards the edge of the playground.

“Not our kind of tag. Our tag has special rules,” he says.

Jimin swings around to face you, walking backwards as you approach a large climbing frame at the end of the playground. It’s domed metal frame cuts an odd shape in the ground, hanging with a honeycomb of ropes. Beyond this is the green metal fence that blocks off the school grounds, and beyond that is bare earth, running back into the forest. It’s branches fracture the empty sky. “The rules,” Jimin announces, “Are that you can’t get caught by the monster. Reaching the base of the climbing frame, he swings himself up onto one of the lower ropes, perched, wobbling in the breeze.

His arm still threaded through your own, Taehyung’s grip tightens on you. “Oh wait, I forgot,” he says, turning concerned eyes on yours, “You don’t like the monster stories do you. Maybe we shouldn’t play?”

Your mouth feels dry, despite the dampness that hangs over the earth - a promise of autumnal rain. “I mean, I think monster stories are stupid,” you say, tipping your head to the side, “But I don’t mind playing with you.” You sense Jimin’s gaze on you, as he eyes you from his spot, dangling lithely from the climbing frame.

Beside you, Taehyung takes a breath, but you pull away quickly, and step up to the climbing frame, wrapping a hand around the rough rope, hard and thick to support the weight of a child. Before Taehyung can say anything about you being scared, you blurt, “Just tell me the rules.”

“Alright,” is all Taehyung says instead, and you suck in a breath, turning back as you lean in on the climbing frame, eyes finding his. The image of you crouched, crying in the forest, acting half your age, is a secret between the two of you now. “That area over there,” Taehyung points just behind the climbing frame, “Is the forest. The person who’s ‘it’ is the monster. They stay in the forest, and can’t come past the climbing frame. If you get caught, you have to go and stand by the fence until someone rescues you.”

You nod to show you’re listening.

“The aim is to reach the top of this climbing frame,” Taehyung goes on, “Once you reach the top, you win.”

Your face is probably a picture of confusion, since Taehyung goes on, “You’ll get it once we start playing.”

“There’s one more rule you forgot,” Jimin adds, “When the monster catches you, they have to sing the song, otherwise it doesn’t count.” His eyes light up, excited, glorying in the thought of it.

“You know the song, right?” Taehyung’s mouth moves slowly around the words as he half whispers, half sings, “I got you. I got you. The big bad monster got you.” His eyes are almost black in the dull sun.

A heaviness settles in your chest, the same feeling you felt in the forest. You push it off, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Alright. I got it. Let’s play.”

You find yourself bundled into a group of your classmates, along with some younger children, whose eyes gleam at being allowed into your grown-up games. Jimin goes around the group, pointing, “Eeney, meeney, miney, moe.” His finger falls on Taehyung, who grins, before letting out a deep growl that sends the smaller children screaming.

Taehyung flashes you a smile of white teeth, dark eyes half-closed, before he runs off for his spot by the fence. The game has begun.

You hang around in the safe area, watching for a while, as one child after another attempts to reach the climbing frame, only to be tagged by Taehyung, and sent to the fence. His voice singsongs around the playground. “I got you. I got you.”

Soon, you’re one of the few left standing, most of your classmates lined up along the fence. Jimin’s among them. “Come on,” he calls over to you, reaching out an impatient hand, flapping at empty air, “Come rescue us!”

Taking a breath, you step over the threshold between the climbing frame and the safe area of the playground. You’re in Taehyung’s territory now, and you’re fair prey. His eyes light on you, a devious grin splitting his face. Suddenly, you’re running as fast as you can. The playground is nothing but a whirl of colour. Your breath catches in your ears. You can feel Taehyung behind you, his laughter coming out shaky. It heats the air behind you. You keep running. Jimin’s ahead, cheering you on. His arm is outstretched. You reach out, brush his fingers, and he’s darting to rescue the other classmates that have been tagged.

But Taehyung’s still closing in on you. You twist away from his outstretched hands. A spurt of energy pushes you further from Taehyung, choking up laughter. You won’t look back. The climbing frame is ahead. You can make it. You can reach the top.

At the base, you hoist yourself up into the mesh of ropes, feeling them scratch at your hands. Below you, Taehyung is scrambling into the web, wobbling the ropes you’re resting on.

From across the playground, you hear Jimin shout your name. “You can make it!”

Taehyung’s a fast climber. You scramble further, but the cold has numbed your fingers; they grasp feverishly at the ropes. Taehyung’s voice hums, “I got you. I got you.” His hand is reaching. You feel fingers clamp around your ankle. Looking down, you see his wide grin. “The big bad monster-”

There’s another wobble of the ropes. He tugs at your foot. The rope slips through your fingers.

The song goes unfinished as you topple down. You’re aware of the sky stretching out in front of you, and then comes the playground dirt. Taehyung’s body is underneath you.

The sky is upside down from this angle, the playground hanging at the top of your vision.

Below, Taehyung gives a groan, “Got… you…”

A set of high-heeled shoes steps into your sight. Sitting up, the world tips itself the right way up, and you find Mrs. Lee standing over you.

“What happened here?” You wince at her tone.

“We were playing and we fell off,” you explain in a small voice, scrambling off Taehyung, as he sits up. A group of students has gathered around you, Jimin’s concerned eyes finding yours from behind Mrs. Lee.

She looks unimpressed. “You shouldn’t be playing so recklessly.”

“It’s just a game,” Jimin tries to justify from behind her, “We were just playing tag, and Taehyung was the monster, and we were trying to get away from him, by getting up the frame, and we’re normally careful. I just think there was a strong gust of wind. It’s normally really safe…” He trails off, taking a breath as Mrs. Lee’s brows furrow down, meeting with her eyelids:

“Jimin, I don’t want to hear about this monster. The school has already talked to your year about these ‘monster’ games you insist on playing. And you know what we say about them?”

“They’re not allowed,” Jimin finishes for her, hanging his head.

“Correct,” Mrs. Lee nods, “I want no more mention of monsters.” She turns her attention back to you and Taehyung, still on the ground. “You’d better go to the nurses office to make sure you aren’t seriously hurt.” Her voice softens as you stand up, wincing when you notice the large rip in your new school tights. “I know you’re new here, so you don’t know the rules yet. But make sure these boys don’t drag you into believing their silly ideas about monsters.”

“Yes, miss.”

As you push through the crowd of students, heading to the school nurse with Taehyung, you can finally fall to laughing, out of hearing of your teacher. Taehyung’s face contorts into a frown as he imitates: “No talking of monsters. No playing about monsters. Don’t even think about monsters.”

You squeal with laughter, and he breaks character for one quick grin, before continuing, “You’re thinking of monsters, aren’t you? How terrible of you! You’ll be expelled for that!”

You only give him a shove, and he stumbles away, pretending to be hurt by your gentle touch. Not letting him get away, you run after, catching him again, with an arm around his shoulder.

When you first met him, you had your doubts about Taehyung - but now, wrapped around him, you decide: you like him.

***

[Two Weeks Later - October 2010]

The rule is, not talking about monsters. But that’s only inside school.

So, when the bell rings, signalling the end of class, you can burst out into the stark chill, and run home, dropping your school bag at the door, before dashing outside again to play with Taehyung. In the street outside your house, you can talk about monsters all you want.

Your dad’s normally content to see you outside, murmuring the normal warning, “Be careful, Cub,” over his copy of the local newspaper, bold words reading: ‘Another local pet found dead in the forest.’

That’s how your past weeks have gone: spend outside in the cold sunshine, Taehyung chasing you around the block, growling the song that’s grown so familiar - “I got you I got you.” - until you eventually tire, and let him crash into you, pulling you in for a hug.

Occasionally Jimin will join you, bringing his friend from the dance club he attends - an older boy, named Hoseok, who's something of a mystery, graduated into the grown-up world of junior high school.

And so you end up by Taehyung’s side, as you always are, when Halloween comes around, bringing with it dark murky clouds to mist over the half-smile of the fat crescent moon.

You’re at Hoseok’s house, a few housing developments down from your own. His garden borders the forest, like yours does. Taehyung brought you over, letting you ride on the back of his small bike, your feet dangling to scrape on the tarmac as he zigzagged down the road.

Now you’re sprawled out on the lawn of the back garden, looking up at the moon, and eating candy that Hoseok managed to plead from his mum.

You hadn’t gone trick or treating this year, feeling a little too grown-up for it. At least, that’s what you said. The idea of going out in the dark, with the possibility of a monster in the forest, was too scary. Eating sweets with Taehyung and your other friends is just as fun.

As you unwrap a packet of Love Hearts, offering one to Taehyung, Hoseok decides: “We should play truth or dare!”

You’ve never played truth or dare before, only seeing it in high-school movies. It’s another cool, grown-up thing that Hoseok does, that you don’t.

“Yeah,” Jimin nods enthusiastically ay the idea. He seems very eager to go along with all of Hoseok’s ideas.

Hoseok bites down on a grin, gazing around your small circle. “Okay, Taehyung first.”

By your side, Taehyung beams across at him. His face is strangely lit, moonlight muddled with streetlights.

“Truth or dare,” Hoseok prompts, and Taehyung blinks:

“Oh. Um… truth.”

At this, Hoseok and Jimin catch each other’s gaze, eyebrows raised. You don’t know what that look means.

“Okaaay,” Hoseok draws out the word, “Is there anyone you like right now?”

“Like?” Taehyung’s brow furrows, “I like all of you!”

“He doesn’t mean it like that,” Jimin looks embarrassed. He seems to like acting particularly grown-up around Hoseok, as if he’s in high school as well. It’s clear Taehyung’s being too childish for him. “Like, who do you have a crush on?”

Taehyung’s mouth parts around a silent ‘o’ shape. His shoulders squash down, like his spine is trying to take root in the lawn, as he mumbles, “No one.”

Hoseok and Jimin share a knowing look, smiling, and you get the sense you’re missing out on some inside joke.

Taehyung’s eyes flash, panicked, to your own - whites around his irises wide and wild in the moon. Then he’s looking away again. It all happens so fast, you think maybe you imagined it. Your chest constricts. “No one,” he repeats firmly.

Hoseok cocks an eyebrow. “You’re sure? It’s okay if you do like someone. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Taehyung shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes. “Crushes are weird… and yucky…”

“They’re not yucky,” Jimin pipes up, “Having a crush is grown-up.” He looks to Hoseok for support on this, and Hoseok’s lips rise in amusement:

“Yeah… grown-up…”

Hearing Hoseok say ‘grown-up’ makes you realise how childish it is to think about appearing that way. No matter what you do, you’ll still be the ‘younger ones’ to him.

“Let’s move on,” Taehyung says, his shoulder’s hunched. He turns to you for help. “You’re next.”

“Oh,” caught off guard, you answer impulsively, “Dare.”

Hoseok and Jimin share another look. They have something bad in mind, you know it. Jimin’s not so subtle glance between you and Taehyung confirms it. He opens his mouth: “You and Taehyung should k-”

“Go into the forest!” Taehyung blurts out, cutting Jimin off. “I dare you to go back into the forest tonight.”

Cold claws its way up from your throat to your mouth. The sky looks further away, with moon wavering beyond the clinging clouds.

Taehyung’s eyes search you own, an apology written there, and he opens his mouth, like he’s gong to take it back.

You suddenly understand what you need to do. Before he says anything, you stand up, “I’ll do it.” Whatever Jimin had in mind, it would have been worse than this - Jimin’s unspoken dare was going to break something. Possibly Taehyung.

Hoseok and Jimin are silent, watching you. The whites of Jimin’s eyes are milky, stretched wide.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his lips plumping in a worried pout. Even Hoseok looks uncomfortable, dark eyes scanning the deeper darkness of the forest behind his house.

“It’s no big deal,” you shrug at them, “I’ve gone into the forest before.” You��d believe your own words if your dry tongue didn’t cleave to the roof of your mouth as you spoke them.

Taehyung stands up beside you, mouth hanging open uselessly. His hands waver, as if to catch you - stop you.

“Well,” you swallow thickly, trying to dispel the uneasiness settled at the bottom of your lungs, rattling like phlegm, “Might as well get this over with.” The smile you give if painfully forced.

You march across the grass towards the fence. In the moonlight, the branches beyond look like they’re made of silver, hazy in a light fog that’s falling. You hear the thump of feet behind you, grass squashing below shoe soles. A hand catches around your arm, pulling the fabric of your sleeve. You glance behind you, to find Taehyung, his mouth opening and shutting, as he searches for the words he wants. Beyond him, you can see Hoseok and Jimin, lounging on the grass, watching on.

“Uh,” Taehyung quickly lets go of your sleeve again, stealing back his warmth. “You - you don’t need to do this.” His eyes are insistent, deep, dark pools. “I know it scares you. So, I’ll take back the dare if you want.”

You keep your face blank. “It’s fine. I really don’t mind.”

He considers this, eyes searching your own for the trace of a lie. You know he’ll find it there if he looks long enough, so you drag your gaze away. Continuing to linger, he finally says, “Alright. But I’ll go with you.”

Pausing, you catch off your own denial. You know you should do this yourself, to prove a point. But the idea of having Taehyung by your side tonight is a much louder thought than your own billowing pride.

So, with a small nod, you let Taehyung’s hand slide down your arm to your hand. His skin is hot against your own, his knuckles hard under your fingers.

Casting one last look back to Jimin and Hoseok, you give a nod, and then joke, “Well, if we’re not back in fifteen minutes, I guess you can start planning our funeral.”

Hoseok only manages a small smile. Jimin’s solemn.

You turn your back on them, and facing the woods, step forward. The empty air echoes silence in your ears.

By the fence, Taehyung helps you over, and then scrambles after you. Your second time crossing the fence is easier, and you can’t help but smile when you manage to land on your feet on the other side. Through the gaps in the fence, you can just make out the slivers of Hoseok’s lawn. No going back now.

Taehyung’s hand finds yours again, and with his reassuring warmth pressing his shape in your skin, you push on, into the dense foliage.

The forest is dark, trees throwing black shadows on the ground. But behind you, the moon is bright, casting blue light that throws your long shadow in front of you. The grounds is fractured into a collage of dappled moonlight, and deep dark, meaning you can’t quite distinguish what lines on the ground are tangled roots, and what are just shadows. You reach out a hand in front of you, swimming through the air, to find the branches you can’t see, pushing them away.

Your progress is slow, hindered by the clawing twigs that scratch at the palms of your hand.

Breaking the silence here feels irreverent to the somber dark. You find yourself holding your breath, scared of the shattered silence of a shaky intake of air. All you hear are your soft footsteps - sounding loud to your ears that strain for any sound that isn’t you or Taehyung.

After several meters, Taehyung stops, pulling on your arm. “Okay,” he whispers, “That’s far enough.”

“I can go further,” you say. Now that you’ve made it over the fence, it doesn’t seem so bad. You’re not scared.

“You’ve done the dare now,” Taehyung insists, “It’s fine.”

But from here you can still make out the dark shape that’s probably Hoseok’s fence. “No,” your whisper is firm, “This barely counts. We need to go further.”

Taehyung’s hold on your hand tightens, and he lets you pull him forward. “Alright.”

Something whispers on the air - just an echo of his words. Alright. Alright. Alright

You press on, listening carefully - for what, you’re not sure. Not a monster. Those aren’t real.

But on Halloween night, in the scattered moonlight, your imagination seems to seep into reality. Maybe monsters can exist at certain times of the day - when the moon is high, and the shadows are long, and the air hangs still, the earth holdings its breath until the danger passes.

You quicken you steps, pulling Taehyung along. You need to go further, prove that you’re not afraid. The silence dissolves with the crack of the branches around you as you move quickly. You’re almost running now. The thump of your feet is a reassuring, steady rhythm.

Then, the trees stop.

You’re out of the thick tangle of branches, standing in the open.

You drop Taehyung’s hand, and spin around, taking it in. You’re in a small clearing, the trees pushed back into an almost perfect circle. The ground is warped by the roots that stretch out towards the centre of the empty ring, like cracks in a bloodshot eye. The air feels even heavier here, a pressing wetness in your chest. Here, the silence buzzes around you - filled with the impossible possibilities that could break this quiet.

On the other side of the clearing, comes an impossibility - something moving in the trees, setting them swaying. There's no wind to mix the stale air.

Behind you, Taehyung is still. You know he’s seen it too.

Your feet are melded to the ground, the dead leaves that litter the ground melting like molasses to trap you in your shoes.

Something’s tugging on your arm. You’re aware of a voice - Taehyung’s - calling, “We need to go. Now.”

Now! You snap back to yourself. Your legs are moving, pushing you away from the clearing, and the swaying branches behind you.

The forest is roaring around you - the sacred silence now broken by the air rushing past your ears, as you pull yourself through crashing branches. These trees are living, breathing, reaching out to hold you back. Below your feet, the roots are snakes, slithering to trip you up. You keep moving.

Suddenly, the wind picks up again, thudding into you, to steal the breath from inside you. It stains your cheeks with colour, and rattles the trees behind you. Beyond that - maybe - there’s something else there. It’s throwing itself through the trees towards you, gaining on you.

You fight on, tugged along by Taehyung. His breath is tearing from his mouth, echoing around the branches.

There, ahead of you, is the fence. Close. You push forward, breath coming in sobs. There’s something dark and terrible behind you. You feel it. It presses down on you, a black feeling, like water that’s too deep. It weighs you down. You can barely move. Your legs are lead.

“Come on. Come on,” Taehyung’s sharp grip on your hand is almost painful. You focus on him. He leads you on. You both crash to the fence, and Taehyung practically throws you over, scrambling after. You fall to the lawn on the other side.

Sitting up, grass and your own hair caught in your mouth, you look back to the fence, where through the small slits in the wood you can see the forest thrashing violently, trees throwing their limbs in contorted shapes.

You shriek, and scramble backwards. There, through a gap in the fence, you see the glint of an eye.

Grabbing at Taehyung, who’s still on the ground, you pull him up, and stumble out: “Something - something’s there.”

You chest rises and falls, fast. “Come on,” you beg Taehyung to move, tugging him along. Snapping up to his feet, he starts running again, hand warm and slick with sweat inside your own. You stumble beside him, head ducking to the ground as your sprint forwards.

Hoseok and Jimin stand up. You barely register them as you pass, only shouting, “Run!”

Taehyung drags you out into the front garden, down to the curb, where his bike is lying, abandoned. He picks up the handlebars, and mounting, doesn’t need to probe you to climb on after him, hugging your arms around his waist, and lifting your feet off the tarmac. He pushes off, pedalling furiously.

You don’t know what direction he’s heading. You don’t care. You just need to get away. As fast as possible.

His hair is blowing into your face, the smell of his sweat filling your nose. You clutch him tighter, urging him on with a muttered prayer to the heavens. With heart hammering in your throat, you glance behind you, to check if you’re safe.

And there they are: two gleaming, white eyes, almost blinding. They’re bounding closer.

“It’s still there!” Your scream is snatched from your mouth, as Taehyung’s bike swerves.

The monster’s getting closer. You can hear it’s thundering growl, throbbing through you. “Taehyung!” you warn.

He can hear it too. He turns his head to glance behind. The bright eyes shine blinding behind you, beams cutting through the air. Taehyung swerves again.

The monster lets out a horrible screeching.

A horrible screeching of wheels. Taehyung collides with the curb, and you’re thrown off the bike. Your forehead smacks the hard tarmac. You roll into the middle of the road, right in front of the two bright lights of a car.

They stop just in front of you, filling your nose with the cloying smell of burning rubber.

A middle aged man is climbing out of the car, shouting, “What the hell are you kids thinking, riding in the road in the middle of the night with no lights? You could have been killed!”

You can’t concentrate on what he's saying. You’re only aware of a thumping pain in your head - the point where the curb had connected with your forehead. Maybe it’s bleeding. Your hand goes up to check the warmth there, sticky. The world is slowing fading to black...

***

“What on earth were you doing?” you dad is standing over you, his lips pulled down. His disappointment is spelled out in the creases on his forehead. “I thought you were mature enough to go out alone at night, and then I hear that you were almost hit by a car?”

You’re sitting in the emergency room, still unsure how you ended up there. Hoseok’s mum is here as well. A nurse herself, she’s insistent you stay here until a doctor checks for concussion, despite your assurance that you’re fine.

You can remember everything that happened before you blacked out just fine. The bright lights of the car. The warmth of your blood. Taehyung’s bicycle wheels left spinning, as he jumped off to run to you.

Where is Taehyung? It’s only you, and your dad, along with Hoseok’s mum, and Hoseok who got dragged along as well, looking pale and shaken.

“I thought I taught you better than this,” you dad goes on, and you feel your cheeks burning, aware of Hoseok’s eyes boring into you, beside his mum. You wish your dad wouldn’t tell you off in front of others. “What would have happened if you’d been killed?” your dad goes on. You drop your eyes to the hygienic white of the floor. You don’t want to see his tired face.

“Please, Dad… I’m sorry…” your voice is hoarse.

Still, he goes on. Maybe he knows how much this hurts to hear, maybe that’s why he’s doing this. “I trusted you, Cub.” The nickname stings when it’s said in that tone.

“Don’t be angry,” Hoseok’s voice picks up, “It was our fault. We were playing truth or dare.” His mum rounds on him, suddenly fierce. “What did you do, Hoseok?” You didn’t expect such force from such a tiny woman.

“Nothing,” his voice is quiet, “We were just playing close to the forest, and-”

“The forest?” Hoseok’s mother snaps, “You went to the forest?”

Hoseok shakes his head quickly. “No! We were just near there.”

“You know you shouldn’t get close to the forest,” she says.

“But, Mum,” Hoseok’s voice is whining, “Our garden’s so close to it. Don’t you want us to go outside at all?”

“Maybe, if you aren’t responsible,” his mum goes on.

You’re glad when a nurse appears, telling you the doctor’s free to see you.

***

The car journey back from the hospital is silent, alone with your dad. Streetlights roll past the window, passing you into light, and out of it again.

“Please,” your dad says at last, “Just tell me what was going through your mind to make you do that?”

You look over to his profile. You can see a small triangle of stubble on his chin, where he’s missed while shaving. A pang of guilt sweeps through you.

“I said I was sorry.”

“I know. And I’m not asking for an apology. I’m asking why you did it.”

You don’t have an answer.

“I just-” Your dad sighs, “I got scared tonight, you know. When Hoseok’s mum called me, telling me you were hurt, my heart stopped. For one terrible moment, I thought I was going to lose you, baby Cub.”

Maybe if you start crying he’ll see how bad you feel, and stop doing this. But you feel empty, dry of any tears. You're too exhausted.

“Promise me,” he says, hands tapping the steering wheel for emphasis, “Promise me you’ll be more careful. I don’t want to have to be strict with you, but if you’re going to put yourself in stupid situations, I have no choice.”

“No…” you can’t fill your voice with the anger you want.

“I’m sorry. But, from now on, until you can show you’ve matured, you’re under house arrest.”

This is the first time you’ve been grounded. “That’s not fair,” you bluster, hating how childish you sound.

“Sorry, Cub. It’s only for a little while. Until you show me you can be responsible.”

You twist your neck to stare out the window, huffing.

“Cub…” you dad’s tone is soothing. You won’t accept it.

“Don’t call me Cub,” you mutter, “You know I hate it.”

When the car finally pulls into your drive, you thunder upstairs and throw yourself into your bed, burrowing under the duvet where your dad can’t hear your frustrated scream.

***

[One Week Later - November 2010]

By the time that you get back to school after the Halloween holidays, you’re a class celebrity, with a large bruise on your forehead as your claim to fame. Everybody wants to get a good look at the damage. Jimin has been circulating the story of what happened, but it seems to have contorted out of his control since it left his lips. Now you’re being asked if the car threw you far when it hit you, and how long you were in a coma for.

You can’t say you mind all the attention you’re getting.

At break time, you manage to get a seat alone with Taehyung, in the corner of the playground, by the flower bed, planted by the primary fives, as part of their biology assignment. Its the first time you've seen him since Halloween.

“Are you okay?” This is the first question Taehyung asks when you sit down beside him, extending a packet of skittles to you.

You pick out a small handful, all reds and purples, and speak as you chew, “Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, good. Good.” Taehyung’s face shows the opposite of good. “I was worried,” he admits, “I haven’t seen you since the accident.”

“Sorry about that,” you mumble.

“You’re… not mad at me, are you?”

“No,” your denials bubble up at once, and get clogged in your throat. “It’s just- my dad grounded me. So I can’t come out to play with you.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s response is soft, “That’s good. I mean, about not being mad. Not about being grounded.”

You nod, quiet. You knew what he meant.

Something feels different here. Maybe it’s the silent guilt from Taehyung, having crashed your head into the curb. Or maybe it’s-

“What actually happened that night?” Taehyung asks what you’ve been wondering.

You hesitate. “I- I’m not sure.” You run your mind over the events that led to you crashing off the bike. It all feels hazy, clouded over in a fog of adrenaline. “I think,” you say at last, “That there must have been something that scared us in the forest - like a squirrel or something. And we were both so on edge already, we were ready to be scared by anything.” This answer feels right. You give a nod when you finish speaking, proud for working it out.

Taehyung isn’t convinced. “It was bigger than a squirrel…”

“A fox then,” you say, “I don’t know. It was dark.”

“There’s definitely something out there,” Taehyung says, not accepting your explanation.

“Something?” you wrinkle your nose, “Like a monster?”

Taehyung’s face is grave.

“You don’t really believe that, right?” you ask. After almost getting hit by a car that night, you don’t want to believe in monsters anymore. The real world is scary enough, without unknown forces, beyond your understanding.

“How else do you explain what was in there?” he asks, “It was more than just what I saw… it was a- a feeling. Like something strangling my heart.”

You remember that feeling too. “That’s just fear, Taehyung,” you soothe, reaching across to find his hand, and giving it a squeeze - because it feels like the right thing to do. “Nothing more.”

He stares off to the fence circling the playground.

“It’s just a game,” you remind him, “You said so yourself.”

He’s silent.

“Just a game,” you lean closer to him, and in a low singsong voice, you hum, “I got you. I got you. The big bad monster got you.”

This breaks a smile on Taehyung’s face. He finishes for you, “Now I’ve got you, I’ll eat you, ‘cos that’s what monsters do. I’ll roast you and toast you and throw you in a stew.”

You both laugh as he trails off, heads falling towards each other. You come to rest at his shoulder, finding space in the crook of his neck. He goes on humming. His tune circles around you, and your smile slips away again. You get the sense that your imagined monster is slinking closer to reality, bleeding into the real world. You’ll fight it back. At eleven years old, you shouldn’t believe in these things anymore - and you certainly shouldn’t go out hunting for them. Some things are best left in the dark of the forest.

Taehyung’s song keeps on, pulsing through you, where you rest your head close to his throat: “I got you. I got you.”

I got you.

[To Be Continued]

author’s note: thank you so so much for reading! :’) I hope you enjoyed this, and are excited for the next part! It feels good to be writing again. Please let me know what you thought of the story so far! 💖

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btsjeonjazz · 7 years

Text

New Toy II pt. 3

Jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff, like 100 words of angst, sub!jungkook

word count: 14.1k

Jungkook spread across his own bed, a blindfold covering his dark eyes was all you wished for, but a nagging thought wouldn’t let the boy go while you played with him.

The sun shone in, bright light illuminating the room to the darkest corners. Cozy darkness was disturbed by the morning sun which laid under his eyelids, still closed, feeling tiredness in his bones, muscles strangely stiff. Jungkook didn’t dare to open his eyes, too excited about what he would see if he opened them even a little. So he didn’t, taking a deep breath before he tried to stretch his still sleeping limbs. Only then he heard it, the same noise which reached his ears yesterday night as well. A small weird sound falling from the pinkest lips of a girl next to him. Slowly, without haste his eyes opened, hands rubbing over his face before he looked beside him, eyes burning from the bright light inside the room. You lay there on your side, head buried into the couch, pressed against his leg while you held Cloud solid in your arms, the dog awake without moving his small body. A blissful, peaceful expression on your face, differently opposing to the moments you were in charge of him. You looked too innocent, cute and defenceless beside him that he had the urge to pull you closer to his chest, wrapping you in his arms to which the boy shook his head. Would never happen, he decided to obey you if it came to sex for a while, hard feelings aside. Then Cloud looked at Jungkook. Realizing that his owner was awake he started to wiggle his white tail, its tip hitting softly against your sleeping state.

“Stop it, Cloud”, Jungkook’s voice was raspy, deep and quiet as he lifted his dog carefully out of your arms. He desperately tried to stop his dog’s excitement, but it was too late. Cloud’s tail brushed your face a few times, grunts falling from your parted lips ere you lifted your messy head, your hair standing up in all directions, an annoyed expression the first emotion you showed for the day.

“Good morning”, Jungkook whispered, his dog sitting nicely on his lap as you looked up, one eye still closed. Your face had the same pattern the couch had, marking your skin with red lines, a sign that the sleep was awesome beside him.

“H-hey”, your voice was hoarse while you straightened your body, stretching yourself and revealing your belly to his display, making the boy blush and look away. “How late is it?”

Jungkook had no idea, but as he looked around he saw that it was past ten already, his morning plans ruined. “Fuck, it’s past ten!” He rubbed over his face a second time, hair trying to comb with his fingers, failing as big parts stood up in all directions, just like yours. Then he grabbed his round glasses off the coffee table, adjusting them on his nose before he stood up.

And sat back down.

A small – in his case big – problem every man had to cope with in the morning standing in his way. Embarrassed he shoved the blanket over his lower body again, the tiny dog back to his position next to you.

“I’ve seen you naked already, no need to be shy now”, you said, grinning at him as you sat up, taking the dog in your arms to snuggle into his fur the way he did it usually. His eyes were drawn to you, your hair standing up, eyes swollen from sleeping so soundly and skin warm as your knee touched his. He had watched you sleeping for a while ere he got too tired and fell asleep in a sitting position, body stiff and aching now thanks to that.

“Y-yeah, even though”, he said, hands covering his morning erection ere he witnessed you biting your lips as you looked down his crotch. Well, that didn’t really help him, the opposite, making his usual morning erection a lust filled one.

“What do you think about breakfast?”, your voice was friendly, kind of cute in his ears as you stood up, your legs wobbling from your recent awakening.

“Sounds good, but I should feed Cloud first and I have to let him out for a while”, the boy answered, also standing up as he looked down your rather small figure in comparison to himself. Jungkook didn’t notice that you were so small, the end of your head as high as his shoulder. Therefore he bit down his bottom lip, the upcoming smirk hiding underneath this motion.

“Sure thing, I call Mia and Tae over then”, you cheered, walking past him while your hand brushed his stomach briefly, warm and so smooth.

Exhaling deeply Jungkook and Cloud made their way to the other side of the semi-detached house to give his dog food and let him out in the garden. Noises, he were content were perverted, reached his ears as he stepped inside, keys falling into the bowl next to the door while he scoffed. How could the two of them fuck even now? It was past ten in the shitty morning.

“Breakfast is ready”, he shouted, voice echoing up the stairs and all sounds disappeared at once. Then he listened in and to his relief Tae rushed down the stairs.

“Lucky for you we just finished”, he said, his eyes sparkling, skin flushed as he stood their in his sweatpants, upper body bare. “So where’s the food, Kookie?”

“Over at y/n’s.”

Tae watched him out of big eyes, doubt about Jungkook’s words laying underneath his glance. “You and y/n? Are you a thing or what?”, his friend’s voice was laced with disbelief and respect.

“No, just you know..”, the dark haired boy nervously looked around while Tae clapped in his hands, his expression showing how happy he was for his friend.

“So you’re not-”

“I don’t smell coffee”, a female voice was heard behind Jungkook’s friend ere hands wrapped around Tae’s waist, Mia’s head laying on top of his naked shoulder.

“Breakfast at your house, Mia”, Tae said, pulling her hands further around him. “Let’s go.”

Them both lazily walked over, Tae grabbing a jacket.

Jungkook let his aching body fall onto the couch as he waited for Cloud to finish his business. Fortunately Taehyung hadn’t spoken out the words he started, it would be too embarrassing in front of your sister. His hands rubbed over his face before he wandered upstairs to wash his face and brush his teeth, trying to tame his hair with a quick shower.

Jungkook thought about the night, your body on his thigh, your moans so soft and feminine, a smile creeping on his face. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to touch you, if he played along long enough. He wouldn’t admit it, but the idea of you being in charge of him started to look quite pleasuring, although he hadn’t ever experienced anything like this, or any other contact with a girl as pretty as you – except for one time in high school. However, Jungkook seemed to find a liking on the game you two played, his orgasms were never so intense, either did he desire someone as much as you.

He finished fast, his stomach growling while calling his dog inside the house, the white fluffy ball wet from small droplets of rain which still filled the streets. Then he dressed and went back to your house, his heart strangely pounding while pressing the doorbell. He was in love a few times, always rejected though, but never was he this nervous around someone for a reason he couldn’t quite collect. Maybe it was your sexy, suggestive way to handle him, or because you made his dick twitch whenever he saw you. Or, but that was impossible, he started to like your cute, rather outgoing personality, but Jungkook was determined to never speak of this theme as long as you were only looking for a toy to play with.

To his surprise did Tae open the door, his smug smirk deepening at Jungkook’s sight.

“What?”, he just asked, the expression on his friend’s face suspicious. What did he know? Did you tell them what you did last night? His heart rate increased, eyes big and round while entering your house he left a few minutes ago.

“You’re not a musician anymore, but a saviour of maids in need or what?”, Tae wiggled his eyebrows. “Y/n told us that you kept her company for the time of the blackout last night. And, did you give it to her?”, his voice was low, the last words whispering, his arm wrapped nosy around Jungkook’s shoulders. He felt tense as his fiend’s voice reached his ears, his cheeks flushing to a light pink.

“I-I didn’t give it to her. Not going to happen anytime soon”, the last phrase was mumbled, his head narrowed to his feet to hide the embarrassment in his handsome features. “Now let’s eat I’m starving.”

Chuckling Tae let go of Jungkook’s shoulders, ruffling his hair while the boy passed him in a rush, clearly avoiding his friend’s curiosity which just made him even more nosy what was going on between you and Jungkook.

Breakfast was ready and after everybody was full you started to clean the mess Tae and Jungkook had made while playing around with the stuff on the dining table. Jungkook was more relaxed than last time, his face lighting with the words spilling from your lips, his brown glasses covered eyes only on your face, except the times you noticed him staring, then Jungkook’s dark oculars narrowed hastily down his food. He actually talked a lot around his friend, outgoing and funny, so not like him when you two were alone. This perception made you nervous, kind of sad, but you had the hope that if you stayed with him for a lot longer, Jungkook would start to feel as relaxed around as around Taehyung.

While washing the dishes you could hear the three of them still next to the kitchen, talking about the usual and the awesome time they had last night at the club, after Mia’s shift of course. Normally you would be pissed that they had fun without you, partying and dancing, but as you heard Jungkook’s sweet voice filling the air you were confident that it was worth it. He was perfect in all his ways. Especially when he was naked and panting, his beautiful moans roaming around the room. You already had plans for the next time Mia and Tae went out, but that should be in a week, unfortunately.

You listened in on their story as Mia had an idea which she loudly spoke out for the boys to hear, your heartbeat increasing, a gloomy expression on your face. Maybe the plan was further away than you imagined.

“I’m free this weekend, guys. Any plans? But forget y/n, she had lost a bet and has to stay home for three more weeks, so the three of us should go out next weekend”, you heard the grin in her voice and imagined her smiling from one attractive guy to the other, evilly enjoying your absence.

“Without y/n?”, it was Tae who answered her. “That’s mean, babe. How about we invite some friends and chill here?” Thanks, Tae, a voice inside your head cheered at his words, although you felt a bit sad that this suggestion didn’t come from Jungkook, who most definitely sat there without saying anything at all.

“Cloud is still a little uneasy, so I’m out”, Jungkook said, his voice let the hair on your arms stand straight. How could he do this with so simple words? Incredible. If he opened his mouth, all you could do was listening in on his words or any other sound he made.

“You’re boring guys”, Mia pouted, your lips turning up. “Forget it then. Any ideas?” She sounded rather pissed, her cute plans blowing at the boys’ rejection. Man, you were one lucky girl that two guys wanted your company that badly – Jungkook’s excuse that Cloud still felt uneasy was a lie, the dog a quirky, happy thing already.

“I’m in for a comfortable night. A movie and some delicious food with some actions afterwards?”, Tae’s words sounded dirty, his voice an octave lower while you heard Jungkook grunt and imagined him rolling his eyes back.

“Okay, let’s do that”, Mia wasn’t content with his idea, but agreed anyway. And to your surprise you were also happy with their deal, the dishes almost clean while you hummed to yourself, your own plans a step closer.

You wanted to have Jungkook in your bed, naked and masturbating with a blindfold on his eyes, and with a bit luck it may happen after Tae and Mia went to bed to play their own naughty games. A package you ordered should arrive this week, too. The content of it wasn’t exactly for you, but you had to wait until Jungkook would agree and be a little more confident in himself ere you gave it to him to unpack. You drew him inside your head, his shocked expression with those typical brown eyes and flushed skin.

“Y/n?”, speak of the devil, Jungkook stepped inside your kitchen, his eyes darting everywhere but on you. Classical Jungkook move.

“What’s up?”, your voice was cheerful, lips curled into a smug smile at his appearance. Jungkook’s hair was neatly combed, falling softly on his forehead, his glasses, as round as ever on his nose while he leaned faked casually on the door frame. You noticed his tension, hands nervously playing with the hem of his white shirt.

“Do you want to join us this weekend? We decided to spent a night at our house to watch some movies and so on”, he coughed slightly to steady his shaking voice which made you smile softly at him.

Of course you were in, had you listened in on their conversation, but you wouldn’t tell him that as he took the courage to ask you himself. “Will you show me your bedroom then?”, your voice was playful, the hidden meaning obvious for him while you folded the kitchen towel neatly. “If you want to though..”

Jungkook’s eyes got wide, his already pink cheeks tinged a shade darker. He gulped loudly before scratching his neck. “If you w-want.”

“Thank you, Jungkookie”, you used this term of a nickname to show him what you wanted when the door closed behind you two, but it was obvious enough already. “Mind if we share your bed for the night?” How far would he let you go? Would Jungkook be a good boy and agree or would he be too shy to have you next to him inside his own bed? You were so curious you held your breath for the time being.

“D-do you mean just sleeping?”

You bit on your bottom lip, the towel loosening until you held it with both hands, sliding it through one several times. “Well, do you want to just sleep?” It wasn’t exactly what you had planned for now, but with that you could get to know what he wanted seriously, teasing him a lot more fun than you wanted it to be. His reactions were the cutest, you couldn’t stop yourself even though Mia and Tae still talked a few metres away from you, ready to storm in at every moment.

He waited a few seconds before he responded, eyes darting to the ground and back, meeting yours for a spilt second. “No.. I want you to play with me.”

Now it was your time to be speechless, the confidence of his words laced with his usual diffidence, cheeks burning while you blankly stared at him. You almost fell over, not believing you had heard what he formed with his melodious, low voice. He literally told you to play with him, make him squirm and moan the way you wanted. Happiness and excitement flooded you at that thought, it was enough to give him the package in a few days.

“Elucidate”, you said, voice playful while tilting your head. You wanted to close the distance, run your hand over his shirt to feel his heat, but refrained from it as you didn’t want Mia to notice what was going on.

Jungkook hesitated, the hem of his shirt baggy from tugging on it. He then inhaled deeply ere he locked eyes with you as long as he was able to. “Make me come, y/n. I want you to put your fantasies into a form. Do wh-whatever you want, I’m in as long as I can pleasure you if you made me ready for it”, he sounded not as confident as you wanted him to, but what he told you surprised you anyway. You had thought he might like it some way, but that he seriously wanted to take further steps, ready to fall into your arms, made you happy. You had reached a goal, his pleasure high enough to continue with whatever you had planned for the both of you.

“Ready for me, hm?”, you hummed, the towel sliding lazily over your upper body, Jungkook’s eyes following your motion. “Define ready? You want me to suck you off or what do you want? Fuck me? Eat me out? Be more precise, god damn.”

An absent nod was all you got as an answer whereas you let the clean towel wander from your thighs up to your core. Jungkook liked it by the look on his face. Whatever he imagined right now turned him on, the bulge in his pants growing steadily under his sweatpants.

“Answer me, Jungkookie”, you wanted him to do what you said, and right now it was to answer wherefore your voice got serious, the pressing undertone sharp to which the dark haired boy flinched.

“Sorry..”, he said, eyes avoiding your figure. “I want..to do everything that has to do with sex with you. Be it e-eating you out or sleeping with you”, his voice trailed off, his oculars behind those big glasses moving behind him to the other both who were present, constantly chatting and making out as if nobody would see them.

His response was to your liking while you nodded satisfied, a faint smile on your lips as to why Jungkook also showed you a shy, small smile, his lips stretching over his teeth. “I love when you say what you really want. It turns me on, Jungkookie.” You let your fingers trace over your breasts down your stomach ostentatious, his face narrowing to the movement of your digits. “Oh, I have a present for you. Come over on Tuesday or Wednesday.”

Jungkook looked surprised, confusion clearly showing and you could almost hear the questions inside his head. It made you giggle, hand hiding your smile to not make him doubt himself even more than he already used to.

“I’ll be here”, his voice sounded weak and unsure of how to react to that announcement.

“It’s set then”, you purred the words out, stepping one step nearer to the shy boy in front of you ere you stopped dead in your tracks. A pair of eyes which resembled your own watched Jungkook and you, a knowing smirk plastered on your sister’s face as she walked past Jungkook, pushing him intentionally towards you. He had to hold onto your shoulders, the unexpected move making him stagger in his tall, broad appearance. You locked eyes only for a few seconds, hearts pounding inside your throats while Jungkook’s lower lip was pulled between his teeth, face close to your own. If Mia wasn’t the cause for your unexpected closeness, you bet he would kiss you if you leaned a millimetre into him. But that wasn’t the case as he separated your bodies hastily, his hands leaving your shoulders the way someone might think he burned himself.

“Am I disturbing something?”, Mia sounded too calm, innocence laced with the fact that she totally knew what you were talking about. She had watched you several times playing with a boy’s head, Jungkook no expectation.

“Nope”, you only said, shrugging your shoulders although you heard your heartbeat in your ears, face kind of flushed while stepping back to lean on the kitchen’s counter again, as if nothing suspicious was going on a moment ago. Jungkook nodded frequently, his dark hair bobbing up and down because of his heavy gesture.

“Is that so..”, your sister pulled her eyebrows up, winking at you whereas she poured herself another coffee. “Are you sleeping over at his as well?”, her question seemed casually out of interest, but you knew your own sister too well. She wanted to witness Jungkook’s reaction, seeing if her accusations were right.

“I am, in the guest room though. Unlike someone else in this room, am I right?”, you teased back, sounding as laid back as you could while the shy boy’s face went from utterly red to pale in an instant. As if you would sleep in the guest room, ha.

“Mhm”, she grinned, hands cupping the hot pot while sipping on her coffee, eyeing Jungkook who was now uncomfortably squirming under your two pairs of eyes.

“Cleaned up, but next time it’s your turn”, you just said, dropping the towel on the counter before leaving the kitchen, pulling Jungkook behind you to release him from the awkwardness he had to face. “See you, Jungkookie. I’m going to take a shower, thinking about you”, you whispered, teasing him while brushing your lips against his cheek before you went upstairs, hips swinging as they always did when Jungkook’s dark eyes watched you ‘unnoticeable’.

A familiar sight greeted you after your morning shower – where you had to compensate for the last night and your still kind of aroused state . You had read for a while, completely forgetting the clock. Now it was past four in the afternoon, time for a snack as you jumped down the last step of the stairs, dancing your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Your sister sat on the couch, a bag of cookies and a tea on the coffee table, her chin laying on her folded hands which were supported by her arms on her thighs.

“I know that expression”, you said, shaking your head at the glance Mia shot you. “Not a chance, my lovely sister”, you chirped, walking past her smirking figure further to the kitchen to find sweets.

“Does Jungkook use his athletic hips the way I imagine him to, or do I have to find out myself?”, Mia’s voice sounded as if she was talking about whether to eat a cookie first or sip on her tea, not about the boy you found a liking on. As if she had thrown stones towards you, you stopped in the middle of your next move, foot high in the air as you turned on your heel.

“Don’t you dare”, you glared at her, Mia just laughing at your furious face.

“Calm down, baby”, she chuckled, her hands grabbing the bag to shove a brown cookie in her mouth. “How else could I force you to stop and listen to me?” She clapped her knee as your face was drained from its color, Mia’s laughter filling the room.

“Not funny”, you shouted at her, arms crossing in front of you. Kind of angry you bit on the inside of your cheek not to chuckle with her. This reaction was definitely not the one you had expected yourself, which was funny even to you, but as a younger sister you wouldn’t admit it to her. “Spill it already.”

Mia swallowed the remains of her snack, leaning back against the rest while tilting her head. “I meant it. Have you fucked already? Or are you planning to make him suffer even more?”

Confused you watched her emotions full of amusement and scorn getting replaced by seriousness. What did she mean with 'suffer even more’? How could she even know what you two wanted?

“What do you mean?”

Mia sighed. “Jungkook totally wants you, y/n. Not the way you want him, but more like all of you to himself. Call me a liar, but my intuition tells me”, she brushed her hair behind her ears. “Be careful what you do to him, I don’t want to lose what I have with Tae to your games.”

Furrowing your brows you nodded. Of course you noticed that Jungkook seemed tense around you, but it was because of the things you did to him, not because of some dumb hidden feelings, right? You stated it that you were not seeking a relationship and today he even asked you to play with him!

“Guess you’re wrong this time”, you smiled at her, knowing that Jungkook wasn’t hiding romantic feelings, not after his declaration this morning. “He already told me what he wants, and it’s totally not me as his girlfriend. Don’t worry, Mia.” With those words you looked for your snacks, but the nagging feeling of her words wouldn’t let you go why you dropped the bag of chips back to its place. Now you were kind of insecure about the thing Jungkook and you started to be. Shaking your head you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

You: Are the fronts clear? No romantic feelings? [04:13pm]

Yes, it was more than blunt, but the best way to deal with your worries. And why not be honest with him? Whatever he would tell you, you had to cope with one thing or the other. After a short while in which you opened the bag of chips anyway, leaning against the kitchen’s counter, waiting for his reply, it came.

Jungkook: They are. No romantic feelings, no hidden meaning behind what we’re doing. Don’t worry I’m big and old enough to decide on my own, y/n [04:19pm]

Jungkook’s answer surprised you in some ways, his words full of confidence and self-assurance, unlike his true personality seemed his character over the phone to be the complete opposite, your eyes wide while reading it over and over again. Was it really the shy boy with the round glasses who answered you? Or did Tae sent it? You scoffed at that thought, as if Jungkook would tell anybody about what you were allowed to do to him!

You: Big words, Jungkookie. Keep up that attitude when you’re squirming underneath me next weekend [04:22pm]

Your heart beat fast, too fast for exchanging some simple texts, but while you stared at your screen, a grin spread out on your face. You were really excited about his next message that you almost let your phone drop as you felt the vibrating 'bzz’ signalling a new text.

Jungkook: Try [04:24pm]

Jaw dropping to the floor you re-read the word. Did he seriously challenge you? This little shit! Giggling you shook your head, phone pushing inside your pocket again. You contemplated which Jungkook you liked more, but the slightly cocky attitude he showed through the screen fuelled your imagination, wild thoughts of Jungkook dominating you flooding your mind, shoving all other pictures aside. Two fucking messages and you’re melting underneath him. His might over you incredible.

But one thing was for sure, the next time you met him you would torture him. If he thought it was alright to sent you such plain, confident responses, he had fooled himself. You liked the way he answered, but you also knew that Jungkook wasn’t like that. The cute, shy boy with those big eyes and bunny smile was the one you wanted, knowing that he was ready when he next laid eyes on you.

You: Bad choice, Jungkookie. Watch out for me [04:25pm]

You fished your phone again to sent this text, showing him who was in charge, but he was definitely a handful right now as the only response you got made you furious, your head dizzy. If Jungkook had shown you this aspect of his character in reality, then you would be the one to moan his name, not the other way around. Unfortunately he was only that cheeky through your exchanged mails.

Jungkook: ;) [04:25pm]

This smiley was all you needed, too provocative to ignore. In your head you painted the picture that was pushed through the dominant, hovering image of Jungkook. And by god, he would suffer the next weeks.

Punctually on Tuesday your long awaited package finally came. The postman eyed you closely, the brand on your order seemingly recognising as one of the most famous sex shops on the internet. “Have fun”, he said, grinning in his wrinkled hand. What a pervy old man, you thought, shuddering at whatever your postman might do or think tonight.

Anyway, now you had your mew cute toys in your hands: A black crop, a lacy black blindfold and handcuffs made out of velvety black fabric to string on Jungkook’s wrists. Good, you also ordered a vibrator for you and a smaller one for him which was intentionally for a man, but if you would hand him his new toy he would seriously run away from you. This thought made you giggle while you let the crop slide through your hand. It was perfectly small for a few hard hits on Jungkook’s muscular beautiful body, the thought alone let your mouth water immediately. It was time for him to pick them up.

You: Come over, Jungkookie [05:02pm]

It was afternoon, your work done wherefore you texted him, ready to surprise the shy boy with the few things you had got your hands on just for your games. But his message disappointed you as you sat on the kitchen’s counter again.

Jungkook: Sorry, but I have practice right now. Is 7 okay? [05:07pm]

You: Practice? No wonder your body is so lean and sexy [05.07pm]

You knew your answer was too fast, but you were always excited whenever he sent you a response. And that he was practising explained his toned muscles and those god sculptured legs!

Jungkook: Not that kind of practice, y/n [05:08pm]

Jungkook: Have to go again [05:08pm]

Confusion laced your face as you read his messages. Not that kind? With shrugging shoulders you packed the toys back inside the box, putting it under your arms while going upstairs. Jungkook would tell you whenever he wanted you to know what sports he did wherefore you had to wait, your curiosity increasing with every passing minute. Shy Jungkookie was doing sports! What a perfect guy you found to be your new plaything.

Around seven your doorbell rang, a dark haired all too familiar guy stepping nervously from one foot on the other, hands behind his back. You recognised his figure behind the milky glass of the front door’s small window, a smile spreading across your face the moment you opened the door for him to come in.

“Hey”, it was Jungkook who greeted you first, his reluctant try to hug you kind of awkward. Hiding your grin you leaned in, kissing his warm cheek before giving him the box.

“Hey, Jungkook”, you smiled honestly (he always brought the best of your smiles to the surface). “Unwrap it already.” His reaction was everything you longed for the whole day, your teeth biting down your lower lip while staring at him with excitement.

“H-here?”, Jungkook’s head turned left and right ere he opened the small package with his free hand. Today his face was freed from the round glasses, his eyes widening at the sight of the content. “A whip? For wha-” He stopped, knowing exactly what it was for. Gulping he lifted it, the view turning you on. His short sleeve pushed further up, his muscles shown for your display as he eyed the crop reluctantly, his veiny strong hand wrapped around it lightly. How you wanted to bend down here and now, his one hand enclosing around your hip to steady your position while the other hit you hard. Swallowing the forming knot in your throat you scratched your neck. If his gazes were always that intense then you didn’t know what else you would do next. Be it fucking him on your porch or stripping and riding him, this view should never land on you. Ever.

“You like it? It’s a crop to be precise”, you coughed slightly.

Jungkook hesitated, his eyes slowly darting towards you. His cheeks were flushed as he put the whip back inside the box, the other two remaining toys left unnoticed.

“Depends who is allowed to use it”, he smiled at you, shy and sweet. His rather bold question made you grin, your face lighting up at his reaction. He liked the idea.

“Wanna test it on me?”, you licked your lips, hands gliding down your body to demonstrate the parts he could hit while watching his already flushed skin turn red, ears included. It was definitely a 'no’. “Too bad, Jungkookie. I would scream only for you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he contemplated the rights and wrongs on the scale in his head. He played with the idea, your panties slightly wet at the possibilities which must’ve storming through his mind. “M-maybe if you showed me how to do it right..”

“Is that a promise?”, you teased holding out your pinky to wrap it around his.

“Okay”, he grinned faintly, entwining his larger little finger with yours, thumbs touching to seal your promise. It excited you to think about Jungkook bruising your body with his marks, a shiver running down your spine. It seemed as if he slowly started to be more comfortable around you with every time you met for which you were thankful. This boy was so perfect that you wanted him to treat you the way he usually behaved, and by the time you were sure that it might happen the next weeks.

“I have to walk Cloud and so on. Bye, y/n. Don’t forget your pyjamas”, Jungkook smiled shyly at you, his pearly whites showing before he waved you good-bye, giggles falling from your lips at his words. Cute.

“God, Jungkook, why aren’t you ready yet? How long are you in there anyway? One hour?”, Taehyung sounded annoyed with his flatmate who occupied the bathroom for the last hour even though Jungkook knew that Taehyung had to shower before their neighbours would come over. “Jerk off in your own room if you can’t hold back if y/n is around.”

The key in the lock turned. Bingo.

“Sorry bro”, Jungkook mumbled, his cologne flowing on the corridor. “I’m just so nervous when she’s around”, he said chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes looking for help.

Sighing Tae wrapped his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Listen. Y/n seems genuinely interest in you. She’s all over you! Are you blind?”

“It’s not the way you think she wants me”, his voice was weak. “Let’s stop here, okay? Go and get ready.”

With that Jungkook nervously walked downstairs, shoulders tense, eyes wild. He didn’t know what you had planned, his usually calm presence buzzing with excitement. Whatever it was, he knew that his climax would be intense, magical wherefore his dick already twitched in his pants. He had chosen black sweats, his bulge at least kind of hidden under the dark material unlike under the grey ones he owned. His tight white shirt was chosen intentionally as he knew that you liked his toned upper body just as much as his legs, the hope of getting to touch you still in his mind as long as he played by your rules.

After nine you stepped inside, his dog’s tail hitting his calves frantically, his black eyes focused on you as you entered the large living room. Jungkook stood up to greet you and your sister, Cloud his companion, who was preferably greeted than he was. You crouched down, the white dog waiting for his owner’s permission to storm towards you. He watched you stroking Cloud’s soft fur, his own dog melting under your touch, eyes full of love and excitement just as his own. It was his second favourite picture of you, crouching down next to his dog, playing with him while Jungkook could watch you.

“Earth at Jungkook? Hello?”, Mia already had her arms spread wide to hug him while he was focused on you. He hastily shook his head before a smile lifted the edges of his lips upwards, hugging Mia shortly. Even though she was your sister, she had a different smell on her skin, her hair another color while her eyes had the same hue as yours, only the expressions totally different from yours. Jungkook had made it his goal to find every difference in your appearances and whatever it was he looked for, you had all what was missing on Mia.

“How’re you?”, he asked her, covering up his absence of mind.

“All the same, but y/n was taking forever today”, she rolled her eyes, gesturing towards you who lay on the ground, Cloud’s tail hitting your face. “What’re you doing with her, hm?” Mia laughed, slapping her hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, a playful act although it made his muscles tense. You also took your time preparing for tonight? Were you as nervous as him? Never. Or were you planning on finally letting him touch you? Maybe.

“Don’t know, she’s one of a kind”, he couldn’t hide the soft smile that crawled sneakily on his lips as he thought about you. But ere you or your sister noticed he coughed, the smile disappearing off his face.

“Let’s get the party started”, Tae’s presence filled the room, his charms and good looks let Jungkook think of him as meek and small next to his friend. And as he reached down to help you up from your position on the ground, his blood kind of boiled with a strange feeling he couldn’t quite sense. Why had Tae to touch you so casually?

The sofa was a large one that was positioned across the wall on which the TV hang, the coffee table lined with an even bigger box of pizza and several bottles of beer and coke. Lights dimmed to a minimum as long as you still ate, the movie you had chosen an older comedy. It seemed cozy would you not press your body against Jungkook’s who sat on the right end of the couch, arm lazily dropped down on the rest while you immediately took your seat beside him.

“This movie is the best of it’s genre”, Tae’s voice almost didn’t reach him while your hand lay casually on his thigh, fingers circling over the material sending shivers down his spine every now and then. “Can you give me the blanket?”

It was too late as he realized that Tae’s question was directed towards him, who gradually tried to stay cool and calm with your hands now squeezing his thigh. Monotone like a robot he handed his friend the asked item.

“Do you have a second one?”, you whispered in his ear, your breath meeting his skin, ears flushing from the closeness of your body.

“U-upstairs”, he heard his own voice, meek, quiet and everything but confident. If it was Taehyung he would seduce you with he whole being, not t hesitating a second, leading you up the stairs the moment you asked for a blanket yourself with the excuse of needing your help. But he wasn’t his friend therefore he stood up, his legs cramped as he rushed to his room to grab the bedspread for you. The moment he turned around, cursing loudly to himself he saw you standing in the door, your face contoured in amusement and lust while you slowly closed the door behind you.

It was funny to see Jungkook so tense, his muscles flexing the moment you tapped your fingers on his knee. Of course you did it intentionally, sitting so close to him, leaning in and breathing on his skin while asking for a blanket yourself. Just an excuse to follow him right after without being busted immediately by Mia and her own lover. You had watched the pretty shy boy curse, his voice manly and confident as those self insults left his pink mouth. It wasn’t the time to talk to him about it, too early as you had to see if he opened up about it himself. And whatever his low self-esteem caused, you would erase it off of his mind the moment he told you.

“Y/n? Why are you here? The movie is playing!”, his voice changed, previously low and strong, he now was kind and shy. Typical Jungkook when he saw you.

“I wondered what your room looks like before I can’t find the bed later in the dark”, your eyes darted around his bedroom. One wall was painted in brown, his bed standing right in front of it while the others were painted white. The large TV hanging from the ceiling across from it. A white commode, shelves and a glassy desk that was situated under the big window also lined his large room. But what surprised you were several guitars hanging over his bed, one standing on a small podium next to the desk while a professional looking microphone was arranged above it. Wide eyes focused on the expensive equipment, your fingertips carefully touching its material. Kind of dreamy you turned around to the owner of it.

Jungkook sat on his bed, his dark eyes never leaving you while he chewed on his bottom lip. The sheets with the playful dark dots suited him, his hands roaming around the soft fabric.

“You don’t do actual sports, right?” He nodded, faintly smiling at you.

“Practice was a vocal lesson or a recording session?” His smile deepened slightly, eyes starting to crinkle at your question, still nodding.

“Is it possible that you’re earning money as a musician? Maybe vocalist of an underground band?” Jungkook chuckled, a newly discovered sound. He seemed to like the way your eyes sparkled, asking him about his most precious thing. Music.

“Okay, last one, Jungkook!”, you tapped at the microphone. “Cats got your tongue? Or why don’t you demonstrate what you’re doing for work?” This time his smile disappeared from his curved lips, replaced by a shocked expression.

“Next time?”, a meek excuse for not wanting to show you his voice. But you didn’t push any further.

“Why don’t you invite me to your next practice?”, you asked him honestly, no hidden meaning behind those words, your interest in his hobby and job genuine.

“If you want, sure”, his smile was back on his lips, your own bright, legs tardily moving towards him.

“And what about playing a bit with me right now?”

Jungkook gulped, the question out of the blue took him aback, his voice stuck while you sat down next to him, your head turned towards his own. You let your hands fall into your lap, orbs fixated on Jungkook’s nervous expression, his face flushed slightly while you hid your grin, biting on your inner cheek.

“Is that also a no?”, your voice was soft, sweet as you showed him your saddest view. “And I thought you-”

“I really want you to play with me instead”, he blurted out, his eyes shyly looking in yours while leaning in until his face was only a few centimetres away from your kinda surprised state. His bangs fell in his forehead, parting lightly, his eyebrows shown while a faint, innocent smile played on his pink lips. The black, centred mole under his bottom lip got your attention, your fingertip tracing along it, upwards to his lips. You were tempted to kiss him, taste his sweetness, his tender, but passionate lips. But before you lost to your inner voice you smirked, pushing him away onto the mattress down his sheets. Jungkook’s hair revealed his whole forehead, shirt showing some of his toned abs as it was pushed up.

“Have I told you that I love it if you say such things?”, you purred, massaging his thighs, the bulge in his sweats outlining the material prominently with every new squeeze of your warm hands. He looked defenceless, aroused and excited as your fingers traced upwards, tapping on his erect cock, the boy squirming under your touch.

“And always so, so ready..”, this time it was no purr, more a playful disappointment, shaking your head. Your next move unpredictable as you carefully pinched his dick, Jungkook groaning loudly. “Don’t forget to answer, Jungkookie!”

“Sorry!”, his response came hastily, voice raspy. “You’ve told me therefore I try to talk to you a bit m-more..ah.”

You lay your hand flat on his cock, pressing down while slowly stroking him up and down, wide eyes watching you with lust lacing them deeply. Repeating your motion you hovered over him, legs straddling his lap, never once stopping your stroking. Tilting your head you leaned down, licking a stripe from his neck towards his jawline, Jungkook moaning quietly. He tasted good, manly, sweat only slightly mixed with soap and a new cologne. Your lips peppered kisses along his sharp jawline, forward to his mouth where you stopped, a centimetre above his own, parted lips.

“Do you want to try out something new, Jungkookie? I bought a nice, black crop and a pretty blindfold for you”, you purred, brushing his lips a brief moment, Jungkook shooting forward to press his lips on yours wherefore you pushed him down with your hands. “Don’t forget who is in charge here”, everything but a purr now.

“It’s inside the night stand”, the boy turned red, his head gesturing next to his bed.

A swift move and you stood beside him, your excitement huge as you ordered him to strip out his clothes, what he did immediately. Good boy, you thought, biting down your bottom lip not to smile at him.

“How much should I take off?”, his voice sounded nervous, his big hands wrapping around his upper body as if he was ashamed. Your eyes darted down his half naked body, boxers still on as you leaned forward again, taking his hands in yours to free his hidden skin.

“Everything, Jungkookie. You look undoubtedly good”, you whispered, eyes meeting his as to why he narrowed his own down his body. “Don’t ever hide again!”

“O-okay.”

Smiling you let go of his warm hands, attention back to the drawer you opened, the crop, handcuffs and the blindfold laying in there, neatly in the back of the small night stand. A condom as well as lubricant also its content. You took the blindfold and the crop, spreading them next to Jungkook, his body finally bare, skin looking soft, toned and tanned as ever. His eyes changed from the sight of the two toys back to you, seeing him gulping while thinking about something.

“Ever tried a crop, Jungkookie?”, you asked, sitting down next to him, fingers tracing a path from his arm to his chest down his stomach. “Or a blindfold?”

He shook his dark thatch, constantly chewing on his bottom lip. “Never, y/n.”

You smiled encouraging, your fingers back to his arm. “I won’t hurt you, but tell me if I go too far and you don’t feel pleasure at all. So”, you tapped down on the mattress. “Crop or blindfold? Or both?” The crop felt light in your hand, its small paddle solid as you hit your palm softly while waiting for his answer. You seriously wanted to make him feel extremely good, not overstepping how far he wanted to go tonight, the rather cool material warming up inside your hand.

“B-blindfold?”, he asked reluctantly, his eyes darting down to the black, lacy one laying next to him. His hand traced its material a short while before holding it up towards you, his hand as high as your own eyes. “I want to try it on you, too, y/n”, it was nothing but a lust filled whisper, his swallowing loudly while leaning forward to press the blindfold gently against your eyes. Shivers and goosebumps ran down your body at his action, your thoughts running riot, panties tight.

“Maybe some other time, Jungkookie”, you said as quietly as he did, your hand stroking over his before you snatched the blindfold out of his big hand to straddle his lap again. “But today is all about you.”

You felt your heartbeat gradually beating faster, pushing the aroused boy down onto the soft sheets again, his cock hitting your still clothes core. He was big, already twitching at however you touched him. And you loved that.

“What a pity you picked the blindfold”, you sighed exaggerated, brushing your hair behind your ear while placing the black mask tenderly on Jungkook’s dark eyes which looked down your body, focusing on the way your hips roamed right above his cock. A light knot should be enough so he could lay down comfortably without an annoying thing behind his head. Jungkook steadily began to bite down his lip heavier, his hips trying to push upward as you lifted his hands above his head. “And here I wanted to strip naked today, without panties..or my bra for you to see..”

You teased him and his decision to chose the black mask, ready to take off your clothes anyway tonight, with or without him seeing you. But as the last word left your mouth, Jungkook’s upper body shot up, his hands trying to loosen the easily opening knot, failing in his haste. And because of your own hands stopping his.

“Disobeying already?”, you hissed, smacking his hands away whereas you shoved his body back down, heavily, his abs flexing as his upper body jumped up once. “Behave and you maybe can after I take it off of you, but now you let your hands where I place them!” Of course you found his sudden movement arousing, how much he wanted you, but not now, and definitely not if he didn’t behave. Therefore you grabbed him by his wrists roughly, placing them back above his head with a loud exhale that should signal him how disappointed and annoyed you were. Which you weren’t but it was part of your role right now.

“O-okay, y/n, sorry”, he stuttered, positioning his hands crossed under his head, a safety measure not to suddenly shoot forward with his pretty paws.

“Good boy”, you praised Jungkook, rubbing your hands over his sides, Jungkook flinching at this unexpected action of your warm hands. Giggling you stood up again, positioning yourself at the end of the bed while admiring the sight in front of your eyes, lips agape at his tanned, perfectly build body. Jungkook’s arms made his upper body stretch biceps showing next to his covered face, his abs flexing with every breathe he took. His chest heaving, thighs tensed while you leaned down, your fingers tracing softly over his legs as to why he twitched.

“Better tell me before you touch me so suddenly, y/n”, he whined ashamed of his body’s reaction.

“Not a chance”, you smiled to yourself, hands wandering further up, directing towards his down-low area. “You look so delicious, Jungkookie. I really want to suck you off…”, you purred, reaching his balls with your fingertips, gently stroking over them with two fingers, Jungkook hissing at your words and your action. They felt tight, solid, his cock slightly jumping up as you touched his sensitive spot.

You pulled your hand back, circling the bed until you stood next to him, hands roaming around his upper body, abs tracing along with your index finger, chest and nipples circling until you leaned in, kissing his toned chest, licking past his nipples. With a soft moan spilling from his lips you grinned, supporting your posture with your hands on his shoulders as you pressed your mouth onto his sensitive small red nubs. Taking one between your teeth, licking up and down, circling it with your tongue. By the time his nipple was so hard, his face flushed while Jungkook’s lips parted.

“I never knew it felt that good”, he whispered, squirming as you devoted yourself to his other nip, repeating your motion, slowly running your one hand down his stomach. Lazily you started to glide your hand over his cock, the boy whimpering as he felt it, pushing his hips up to feel you, guide you what he wanted. Oh, and you knew what he wanted. You. But that was the one thing you wouldn’t grant him with the next few weeks.

“You feel so tight down there, Jungkookie. Are you that turned on from me nibbling on your nipples?”, you scoffed squeezing his erect, throbbing cock. “Meek, Jungkookie. You should see how much pre cum already fills your tip..” Another squeeze let Jungkook moan loudly, his dark voice filling the air around you, your pussy contradicting around nothing at this arousing, guttural sound. You seriously had to hold your own libido back if you wanted to continue wherefore you closed your eyes shortly, inhaling deeply ere you smacked his thigh with the hand that was wrapped around his cock.

Jungkook growled, your hand stinging at the sensation while you straightened yourself again. “You look as if you want to be touched”, you said, as silently as you could peeling yourself out of your shirt and the leggings you wore, leaving both clothes on the ground while you slandered towards the door to check if you really had locked the door. You did.

“I can’t wait to jerk off..I’m so needy, y/n. Please, touch me..”, Jungkook’s voice was a whiff, his desperation showing openly as you walked back only in your underwear.

Humming you did as he asked, kneeling between his legs without touching his skin with your own bare ones while leaning down, massaging his strong thighs with your warm hands. He felt tense, his muscles constricted while your fingers wrapped around his shaft again, feeling his thickness, the vein that lined upon it and the slight slick arousal flowing down his tip. You didn’t intend to do his work, only teasing him with your fingers which tugged at his skin, stroking it back a few times before your thumb swiped off the pre cum wherefore Jungkook ached his back upwards, his hiss resonating from the walls.

“Y-y/n..”

“Yes?”, you asked innocently, thumb circling over his slit, Jungkook moaning and squirming. Without eyesight he must feel the sensation even more, senses too sensitive for every touch you gifted him with. “Speak up, Jungkookie, I can’t read your thoughts.” But your reactions, you thought cheekily.

Instead of an answer he thrust his hips up again, moaning as he felt your lips on his inner thighs. “Please..ah..”, he groaned at the wet trail you left, kisses deep, sucking his soft flesh inside while your thumb rolled over his tip until you saw pearls of sweat pooling on his stomach. “J-jerk a bit, please.”

You didn’t listen, lips pressed against his warm skin further up, small marks lining his legs on one side before your attention was drawn by his other thigh. Another wet path towards his down-low area, stopping right next to the neatly shaved shadow next to his twitching cock. Jungkook couldn’t hold back anymore, his face contoured in pleasure, lips red and swollen from his violent chewing wherefore you repressed your own moan. Down here, looking up, his cock for your display, abs tensed, chest heaving while Jungkook moaned underneath this blindfold got you going so heavy that your one hand slid down between your legs. You pressed down your clit for a while to ease the pain of your strong arousal before you leaned back in.

“You should see me, Jungkookie. Touching myself because of you”, your voice was a purr, seductive, moaning with your fingers on your aching nub. “I want to rub myself over your cock..” Mewling you continued kissing your path around his lap, dangerously close to his dick, the submissive boy whining your name, his breath hitching as your tongue brushed his balls.

“Fuck! D-do it again, please”, Jungkook’s head shot up, his blindness hindering him from seeing the sight which would make him come immediately. You between his legs, your one hand on his tip, enclosed around it while gradually stroking the most sensitive spot on top of his prominent member, your face buried down his balls only in your underwear, your fingers still rubbing your bundle of nerves.

“Do what again?” Teasingly you blew warm air against his tight balls.

“Fuck..”, was all he could form ere he fell back down, his chest rising high. “I can’t s-say it.”

You scoffed, hand pulled away from his tip, pinching it hard enough for him to flinch, the sound coming out his chest guttural again. Instead of doing what he wanted, you bit down next to his balls down his thigh, leaving a red mark of your teeth. “Tell me!”, you commanded, doing it a second time while your attractive toy bit down his own bottom lip to mute the small cry that pressed through his throat.

“Lick my balls..and stroke my cock..fuck.”

Another lighter bite followed, but you did as asked, proud that he formed those words himself. Your fingers closed around his tip again, his white pre cum used as lubricant you stroked over his swollen, red tip, nothing more whereas you blew another gust of your breath against his balls. Now you had him, his pants loud, mixed with dark moans as you buried your face between his legs, kissing his balls.

“If you ask me that nicely earlier, Jungkookie, then you can have whatever you want”, you said close to his testicles, tasting them with a strong lick across, making Jungkook shudder beneath you. As expected did he taste like soap with a strong spark of his own taste, manly but sweet, his stubbles tickling your chin while you took on of the two in your mouth, latching your tongue around it lasciviously. Then you also took the other on inside, sucking softly at them, slurping, lewd sounds reaching your ears as you let go of his cock, spreading his legs further.

“I might come..w-without even touching myself..god”, Jungkook stretched this sentence, moaning as loud as he could and you were more than sure that the others downstairs might hear his voice as well.

Your fingers stroked over your covered folds, mewling with his balls inside your mouth, wetting them with those vibrations which were sent through his entire core, his head thrown from side to side. Slurping you sucked them a little heavier, his body tensing. You saw his cock throb, twitching and his arms shaking with the urge to just jerk off now, the sensation without seeing even stronger. Roaming your tongue across the two sensitive, heated balls you pressed it down, making Jungkook cry out. He squirmed like hell beneath you, his testicles massages by your wet muscle made him seemingly crazy, his hisses loud and clear for everyone to hear. Plopping sounds heard you let his balls fall out of your mouth, giving them a wet kiss before you licked a stripe up his cock wherefore you heard a low growl.

“You really want me to suck you off, Jungkookie?”

“More than anything”, he answered hastily, his voice hoarse with pure hunger. “I’m almost at..my l-limit.” His dick jumped up as you kissed his tip, tasting the saltiness mixed with something sweet off of his pre cum. That was all he got from you today, even more than you wanted to give!

“How about you start to touch something good then?”, your voice was raspy with arousal, clearing your throat with a cough as you straightened into a kneeling position, your hands leaving his body completely as to why Jungkook whined. But you were busy yourself, rubbing across your clit down your covered folds, feeling the soaked material. Then an idea lighted in your head, one he might like as well. “Now.”

Without hesitation his hands shot down his stomach, grabbing his cock with his big, veiny hands, enclosing around it with both of his paws.

“And who said you should touch down there? Touch something could contain some other spots of your delicious body as well..or mine”, you sounded annoyed, taking his hands away, his strong strokes stopping at your words. He felt so warm in your own, his trembling violently. God, he was ready to fuck you. Any other man would fight you to come already, but not your cute neighbour. “Can you feel this?”

You lead his hands down your bare stomach, his hands filling it completely, shaking while curling, his fingertips stroking your soft skin. Even though you couldn’t see his eyes did you feel as if he saw you with his body, his veiny hands. His face contoured in surprise changed into recognition, his lips curled into a soft smile.

“Your skin feels so warm, y/n”, he only said and your heart jumped up, racing so utterly at his words that you had to stop this rather intimate moment, but ere you could he grabbed your waist, caressing your sides tenderly. “And so soft..”

Your inner voice screamed to take his blindfold of, sit onto his dick and let him fuck you sensually, but that wasn’t what you wanted. Not yet. Or ever. Therefore you inhaled deeply, calming your fast heartbeat while gliding his hands down to the hem of your lacy underwear. You helped him put his fingers under the waistband before you let go of his hands.

“And what about this?”

His breath hitched, lips sucked between his teeth as you saw his cock throb again. “Y-your panties?”

“Bingo, Jungkookie”, you smiled, smacking his hands away in a quick motion as he started to pull them down only a centimetre, his breath stuck as far as you could see. All teasing for now you lead his hands back on his own stomach.

“I think I gave you too many rewards tonight”, a change in your voice let Jungkook’s head shoot up. “And for what? Nothing in return.”

“I-”

“Not a chance, Jungkookie”, you said, chuckling at his flustered expression. “Show me what you can do. A little show would be nice.”

Freezing Jungkook stayed in place, not moving an inch. “Sh-show?”

You hummed in agreement. “Make me crazy.”

He gulped loudly, too shy to react, but as you dropped your panties intentionally noisy on the floor, moaning in his ear, he started to let his hands roam around his upper body. Still stiff though.

“That’s the way”, you whispered, sitting next to him on the bed, kneeling beside his hips so you could observe his whole body from top to toe.

Jungkook’s veiny hands glided up to his chest, pinching his own nipples, his bottom lip chewed on again. Then he let them slide down again, grabbing his cock to stroke strongly accompanied by a low groan as one of his hands remained there, pleasuring him gradually. The other slid further down, fingers digging into his thigh, massaging it only for you until he let it slide up again. Although Jungkook didn’t feel as comfortable as you wished, he did good, your juices glistering at the bottom on the fabric of your panties while you slid a finger sneakily inside your folds. You were ready, as turned on as you ever was, eyes focusing on his hands. Man, they were pretty. The dark haired, eyes covered boy circled his hand intentionally slow around his cock, the veins on his arm prominent, his motion too sensual with all the hisses that left his lips. It definitely was a show he made only for you, his cock throbbing under his touch.

“You’re doing good”, you praised him, a rather loud moan falling past your lips because of the second finger you dipped inside your pussy, scissoring through your tight folds. The other free hand took his, gliding it down your stomach again as to why Jungkook’s movements fastened, his breath hitching. You let him feel your hand, planting the picture of you fingering yourself while his eyes were covered inside his head, fuelling his already hungry mind. He moaned, low and quiet, listening in as he turned his head in your direction, catching your moans and lewd sounds resonating off of the wet spot between your legs. His big hand trembled, stroking further down your stomach towards your hand. You let him be until you heard him whimpering, his motion stopping completely.

“A-are you really touching y..yourself?”, he whimpered again, his voice shaking as heavily as his hands.

“What do you think?”, you asked him, stepping forward, his hand laying down on top of his stroking one. “Don’t get startled”, it was a suggestive whisper, leaning down above his face, pulling your fingers out of your pussy, aching at the loss of contact. Without another warning you traced your glistering fingers over Jungkook’s bottom lip, easing his swell with your wetness. He didn’t dare to move his mouth as you smeared your juices over his lips, smacking your own to signal him that he should do the same.

If he hadn’t a cover around his eyes, they would look at you with shock, wide brown doe eyes locking with yours. His breathing got so heavy that his chest hove, his nostrils blown.

“I’m s-sensitive to scen-scnents, y/n..you smell unbelievably..sweet”, Jungkook moaned, hesitating to lick your juices off his lips.

“And how do I taste?”, you asked, smearing the remains on your fingers over his chest down his stomach where they mixed with his sweat. “Or do you come if you do?”

Your eyes darted back to were his hands squeezed his cock, a pool of pre cum forming on his lower stomach, his hands turned white as the knuckles plopped up. He trembled violently, but that was all you needed to pull his hands away, back above his head, Jungkook’s face showing signs of refusal, but he wouldn’t say anything, too busy not to taste you on his own lips. You held his wrists close while giving him a wet kiss onto his neck, biting down to leave the same mark as on his thighs.

“What-”

“Taste me on your lips, Jungkookie”, you whispered, kissing his sensitive skin passionately. “What are you afraid of?”

Jungkook moaned at the sensation on his neck, his tip so red and swollen resembling his lips like the last time you two had fun together. “I c-could come.”

“You won’t, I promise”, your hand squeezed his wrists, letting them go ere you opened the knot behind his head, the mask still on his eyes. “Come on, Jungkookie~”

And so he did, licking carefully from the corner of his lower lip to the other, growling and squirming, his legs flexing. Jungkook couldn’t hold back his voice, deep and dark moans falling from his parted mouth, his tongue roaming around his wet lips, tasting every drop you granted him with. “Too sweet..fuck.”

You watched him in awe, something as hot and seductive as this never seen. Jungkook was the boy of your dreams, his body sweating heavily as he tried to hold back his release, his arms twitching to touch himself after he started to taste you. With a swift move you put your underwear back on, stroking over his upper body a last time before you removed the black mask. Jungkook had to blink, closing his eyes with furrowed brows, sweat tinging the ends of his bangs which you stroked back, revealing his eyebrows. His pain contoured face, angry and aroused made you week in your knees, the juices spilling down on his sheets.

“Touch yourself again”, you whispered, guiding his hands down his stomach, laying them flat on his cock. He started to stroke without a second invitation, groaning, hissing and panting as he furiously began to palm himself. His brown eyes slowly started to open, one hand moving back up to cup your face and you let him.

“You’re..beautiful”, he mumbled, head falling onto the pillow, back aching as he moaned your name, looking straight into your eyes without a spark of shame or shyness. This fact turned you on so much that you had to press your legs further together, biting down your lower lip as Jungkook always did to mute the upcoming mewls. Then you leaned down, his finger still surrounding your face, to brush his lips, tasting his sweetness and your own juices at the same time. You locked eyes again, grinning down at him, then at his cock.

“You better come a lot for me”, voice still whispering you sat straight again and couldn’t decide where to look at as he started to feel his release approaching. His face, painted in the most blissful emotion you had ever seen, or his cock, angry stroked by his veiny hands, throbbing on a next level. Internally screaming you decided to stand up, rushing between his legs to have his beautiful face and dick in your view.

A loud sound rang to your ears, Jungkook’s lips agape, moans and hisses spilling from his wet, red lips while he closed his eyes, head turned back as far as he could whereas his heels dug into the mattress beside you, legs tensing. His one hand grabbed the sheet while the other made him come the moment you called his name.

White loads of cum landed on his stomach, his voice darker than the night outside his bedroom, moans deep and uncontrolled filling the entire house as well as slick sounds his hand-movement made, seeds spurting out, flowing down his fingers in thick drops. They were used to smear around his still erect cock, hand slipping up and down slowly, pressing down his member while he opened his eyes.

“No, you’re beautiful”, your voice was quiet, mumbling to yourself at the sight in front of you, your hands shaking, legs cramped from the constant urge to press them together.

Jungkook’s dark, half closed orbs met yours, the fucked out expression on his face fuelling the heat in your core. His lips were wet, parted, skin flushed as he stroked over his cock until it softened inside his hand, his panting the only sound filling the air while you two stared at each other as if you never had seen something more astonishing in your lives.

“Jungkook”, you said aloud, brushing your hair back kind of shyly, feminine at this intimate moment you two shared. Focusing on each others eyes felt strange, tension building in another way than a sexual. It felt like an eternity, focusing on the others oculars, falling deeper down inside your partner’s presence.

“Y/n”, he responded, his hand opening around his soft member, stiff and coated in his white release to support his body to sit straight. Legs still in position around you, he slipped towards you. “You make me feel things I never could experience..I’m so glad that I have met you, y/n.”

Flushed cheeks with chocolate eyes leaned forward, stopping right in front of your face. Tension of a sensual make-out session between you two wherefore you narrowed your eyes. That was nothing you should do with him, no romantic feelings, no tender kisses or caresses. Therefore you turned your head, burying it inside the crook of his neck, your favourite position so far, to place a wet kiss on his skin. You remained like this for a while before you pushed yourself off of him, your smile suggestive to erase the rather intimate atmosphere.

“You should wash up”, you said, biting your inner cheek whilst your fingers smeared around his cum, spreading it over his toned, tanned stomach.

Jungkook followed your movement with half closed eyes, gulping to see your barely dressed body close to his, your warm digits feeling way too good. “I’ll be back in no time”, he said, taking the bedspread he had dropped next to the bed as you surprised him to cover his lower body if Mia or Taehyung might come upstairs to check on you two whereas he went to the bathroom to wash the sexual remains of your play off of his stomach. “T-take some rest.”

With that he hastily made his way out of his bedroom, leaving you behind laughing loudly at his suggestion. How could such a hottie be so damn cute and clumsy? You couldn’t believe how much his presence made you happy, your heart clenching as he left you alone in his big, cozy room.

As you had some time, you slipped out of your bra, dropping it down on his floor, looking for your shirt without success. It was possible that it landed between the bedspread Jungkook had just thrown over his core, your head dropping to look for something else to wear instead; his white shirt. It was way too big and you felt like a dwarf in it, the sleeves reaching the crooks of your arms. Shoulders shrugging you spread yourself onto his bed, the sheets smelling so much like him that you turned to the side, sniffling at them. The smell reminded you of the actions you were lucky to witness a few minutes ago, his sweaty body, his seductive glance and those melodies of moans..fuck.

Your hand glided down your upper body between your legs, pressing down on your covered nub. The previous arousal still present, juices soaking your panties and legs from before. Oh, you wanted to come so badly..

Warm water dripped off his naked body, the cum on his stomach washed down the drain as Jungkook snatched one of the larger towels from the towel rack to wrap it around his hips. He looked in the mirror, traces of whatever just happened between him and you reflected in the merciless light of the bathroom’s lamp.

His lips were dark, supplied with blood and swollen. Jungkook closed his eyes shortly, remembering the taste that laid on his lips a few minutes ago, a sweetness so strange and arousing, his mind clouded with nothing else as you spilled your juices on his lips.

“Fuck”, he grunted, opening his eyes, repressing the bulge that pressed against the material of the towel. He barely thought about you and his body reacted as if he would be touched.

His glance was drawn back at himself. Cheeks tinged in a darker hue of pink, eyes half closed and hair messily brushed out of his face whereas his skin was covered in light marks of your teeth and hickeys down his legs, a bigger one on his revealing neck. It was late summer, not the perfect time to be bruised by you wherefore he sighed, a huge smile spreading out on his face. He was bruised by you!

What a blur this night was again for him. He never had worn a dark mask, was touched like today or had the chance to fucking feel the soft skin of your belly. But it was astonishing, breathtaking how much sensation his aroused body was able to feel with closed, covered eyes. And your tongue of his balls..god, he never was that turned on, ever.

Exhaling he tried to calm his erect member down before he dried his upper body, dropping the towel to the floor until he realised that he forgot something to wear back. Therefore he grabbed the bedspread, wrapping it around his core, a rustling sound underneath him wherefore he looked down, confused what that noise caused.

“Oh”, he bent down, grabbing a small piece of cloth, seeing that it was the shirt you had worn tonight.

Several naughty pictures blurred his vision. What were you wearing now? Nothing? Only your bra? He swallowed the upcoming knot, leaving the bathroom, tripping over his own feet as he rushed back to his room, stopping dead in his tracks as he heard it, a similar sound to the mewls you let him hear as he was blindfolded.

The hand on the doorhandle he listened concentrated if his mind played tricks on him or if he had seriously heard you moan behind this still closed door. Tensed he made no noise himself, ear pressed against the wooden door as he witnessed your soft moan again.

“Holy shit”, he whispered, feeling like a pervert to overhear your mewls that sounded like the softest, most attractive serenade to the dark haired boy. Gulping he felt his semi-hard cock under the bedspread growing with every sound that reached his ears. Then he did it, opening the door only a tiny bit, glancing through the creek.

What he saw let him freeze on the spot. You lay flat on his bed, your heels dug into the same spots his previously were situated, your one hand roaming around under a white shirt – wait, his white shirt. The other small hand of yours slid between your legs underneath the lacy panties you had on, rubbing your clit. Your face was contoured in pleasure, eyes shut close and mouth agape, small, quiet moans leaving your pink lips as to why Jungkook started to palm himself over his covered bulge.

It was so wrong to peep on your masturbating, your small figure aching under your merciless strokes, your moans getting intense..and sounding dangerously like his name.

“J-Jungkook..ah”, your chest was pulled up, your eyes pressed close as you started to pant heavily, his name a stretched mantra, every moan of your sweet voice getting you closer to your orgasm.

Jungkook stopped whatever he had in mind, refraining from touching himself further, too afraid his own voice would slip through his gritted teeth. He was in love with your body, attitude and the things you did to him, but now his mind was occupied by you on another level. Your dirty, naughty mewls, his name falling from those lips he was addicted to..

His head fell back as you came, his name resonating loudly from his bedroom’s walls before his dark eyes were focused on your body again, lips pulled between his teeth. Then he heard it again.

“Fuck..Jungkook..”

You spread your legs, a bit more skin showing that he had never seen, your fingers inside your folds, glistering from your climax as you pulled them out, panting heavily while pressing your legs together. That was the sign for him to wait outside the floor a minute, his head hazy from what he was able to witness right now.

Jungkook leaned against the wall across his bedroom, his eyes closed as he tried to calm himself down. That he still tasted you on his lips didn’t help, his name in the form of aroused mewls coming out of your mouth neither. His heart beat fast as he shoved every damn picture of you aside, failing miserably. Shaking legs and deeply flushed cheeks he counted to thirty, cock still twitching as he pushed his body off the wall.

With a last deep inhale he knocked on the dark wood as if nothing just happened, as if he hadn’t seen you reaching your own orgasm from your own fingers and the memory of him. That aspect shocked him the most. You, the most beautiful being on earth, the heart of a fighter, so dominant and enticing had masturbated thinking about him, Jeon Jungkook, a shy musician who had no fucking confidence to even speak up if your were in the same room, who lived his whole life in a small town near the sea, who tried so desperately to hide his feelings for you. In disbelief he blinked, feeling strangely proud, on cloud nine at the fact that you laid on his bed, in his white shirt – that suited you to perfection, sending off cuteness and sexiness at the same time – touching yourself thinking about him.

“Yes?”, he heard your female, sweet voice allowing him to enter his own bedroom, what he did, reluctantly, eyes narrowed to his crotch that he covered with his free hand, unnoticeable, cheeky hiding his erection from you. “That was fast”, you chirped cheerfully, opposing to your moans and those seductive emotions on your face a moment ago.

Jungkook lifted his glance to your curled up position, legs pulled towards your chest while you looked at him out of innocent eyes. Fortunately he was safe, you hadn’t caught him staring. Exhaling his whole relief he smiled at you, walking straight to his wardrobe, looking for a pair of fresh boxers. His face grimaced, easing the stiff muscles to smile honestly the next time he looked at your small body in his wide white shirt, pure girlfriend material. If you hadn’t told him clearly that if he agreed to be toyed with he wasn’t allowed to see you in a romantic way, to feel a racing heart whenever you were around..at least you would never now as long as he kept his mouth shut.

“It’s better if I go to the bathroom as well”, he heard you saying, the rustle of material on your skin sounding through the room before he felt warm hands wrap around his naked upper body, surrounding his bare stomach. “But before I go, I need something to cover my bare ass, don’t you think so, Jungkook?”

He had to repress a grin, the thoughts his mind was filled with after your words 'bare ass’ dirty, not helping to soften his dick at all.

“Hurry up, I’m tired after what you did to me”, he said reprimanding you with confidence in his voice, surprising himself with those words.

“Oh, big words Mr. Jeon”, Jungkook heard the smirk out of your voice, his last name the first time spoken out loudly by you. “Better behave”, was all you said, giggling as you shoved your hands under the hem of the bedspread, pulling it down in one go, leaving him completely naked. His ass for your display you smacked it, wrapping the sheet around your own hips while rushing towards the exit of his bedroom. “Tired? I don’t see any tiredness down there”, you teased, wiggling your eyebrows as he turned his head, his hands covering his erect cock from your sight.

“I-I..fuck”, his cheeks burned, the sting on his bare ass still present as he watched you sassily grinning at him, his own laugh filling the room. “Guess I’m busted, huh?”

You just laughed with him, the music resonating from you making his heart flutter again. Then he was alone with his thoughts, taking the black boxers to slip them over his erect member, the bulge straining against the material, outlining his dick as to why Jungkook put his hands on his hips, looking down to the disaster caused by you.

Cursing he walked towards his bed, taking a deep breath, your smell faintly on the sheets, still warm from your heat as he spread his arms wide, staring at the ceiling with a doubting smile on his tired face.

Would he be able to close his eyes even once tonight? Were his hidden feelings already obvious or could he hide them perfectly at least when you were with him? Jungkook just hoped to be able to continue with you giving him high ranking orgasms, intense and satisfying without you noticing and knowing that he..

Jungkook rubbed over his face, ashamed that he hadn’t told you the first day you made him come inside the swimming pool. Now it was too late, his low self-esteem wouldn’t ever allow him to come out with the truth, although it was important that you knew before he would sleep with you. His nagging thoughts pulled by the collar, he shoved them into a drawer with a huge lock at the furthest end of his brain to abandon them from his mind, at least when you were around.

Sighing loudly he sat up, adjusting the pillows for your comfort, falling down on his own as the only concern he really didn’t want to see formed behind his closed eyes:

Would you leave him alone if you found out that he was still a virgin?

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